


I Dream of Sin

by wellthizizdeprezzing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Bellatrix as a mentor, Dark!Hermione, Depictions of Bullying, Dreams, F/F, Learning Magic, Mystery, NOT a slowburn, Romance, Some angst, Suspense, Violence, and erotic dreams, becoming a witch, corruption of character, for once, morally gray actions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellthizizdeprezzing/pseuds/wellthizizdeprezzing
Summary: Hermione is having odd dreams. Dreams in which a strange black haired woman calls on her to find her true destiny. But will Hermione find it before worst comes to worst? And when she does, just what will happen to her? Dark!Hermione AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story will be dark, you can blame that on me watching Brightburn and needing an outlet on the uneasy feelings it left me with. This story will contain depictions of bullying, morally ambiguous actions, corruption of personality, an underage relationship, as well as acts of violence. Do not read if you do not like this sort of stuff or Dark!Hermione.

The dreams have been coming frequently. Have been becoming more detailed and realistic. And Hermione doesn't know why. Her 15 year old mind, though sharp for her age, has no explanation for these dreams. All she knows is that they draw her in. Call to some part of her that lays dormant for good reason.

They first started when she turned fourteen. They happened sparingly. Maybe once a month, on the night of a full moon. And they would be brief, confusing blurs of motion. A glimmer of black here, pupil-less eyes looking at her, and some words being thrown at her. Words she could never remember. All she knew was when she woke up from those dreams she felt oddly conflicted. Felt like rushing off into the woods behind the town line and running free.

But they only ever got worse. Soon she began to have them weekly. And they were longer dreams, but images and voices slithering under her skin, making her uneasy and feeling restless when she woke up. Like she was wasting time by not doing something. She would always end up staring at the wall after those dreams, lost to the world around her as she desperately tried to grab onto the fragments of her dreams. But she could only ever see the dreams, images under a blur, and speech slurred and distorted. She had no idea why she had them. Maybe it was because she was bullied?

Maybe the stress was manifesting this way? It would make sense given the dreams dark nature. Screams and dark chants the soundtrack to them. Maybe she should tell her parents about this? Maybe she could get help this way?

But she was ashamed to do so. The Grangers were a family of doers. Of independent thinkers. They didn't ask for help or rely on anyone to solve their problems. It was how come her mother was a professor and her father a self made dentist. Which was why Hermione had never mentioned the bullying. She was ashamed of it. Of being bullied. Sure, she knew she wasn't popular by any means, but she didn't know why she deserved to be picked on from all the people going to her high school.

Their slurs were constant. Their sharp looks and the rumors they span about her picking her apart like a piece of litmus paper.

"Look at her hair. Disgusting. She should comb it."

She couldn't. Her hair was naturally curly.

"I heard she fucked the neighbor's dog because it mistook her for a bitch."

"No, I heard it was because _she_ was in heat and no one wanted her but the dog."

Lies. All lies. But people eagerly believed it, because what else would the students of this small town choose as a past time? Their small brains entertained themselves with rumors and picking on others.

Hermione did her best to ride out the waves of this. Tried to simply ignore everything by sticking her nose into a book and reading. And it showed in her grades. She was top of her every class. And her teachers loved her. Which only got her the nickname of teacher's pet not that she cared anymore. It wasn't the worst of the names they assigned her. She couldn't wait to graduate. Than she could move onto college and truly start the important years of her life.

She couldn't wait until she was a successful business woman while her classmates were stuck in this dead end town, poor, a mess, and with ten kids and piles of debt.

And then she would be the one with the last laugh.

She only had two more years and it would all be over. She only had to last that long.

But things were about to get much more complicated for her. And much more than she could handle.

On a stormy night, she lay tossing and turning in her bed as the wind howled outside, lightening flashing and thunder rumbling. Her hands fisted on the sheets as her neck strained, mind whirling.

She was having one of those dreams again. And after a particularly bad day at school. Pansy, Daphne and Blaise had cornered her outside of school just as she had been leaving, and with a hard yank on her elbow, had pulled her into a back alley by the school where no one could see her or hear her.

"Look, the bitch thought she could go home without saying goodbye to us," Pansy said, flicking ash off her cigarette stub. She looked more like a pro wrestler than a student and that had something to do with how'd she'd been left back several times. Her broad shoulders stretched the school issued Catholic outfit so that there were gaps between her buttons, and her thighs were timbers, the knee high socks ripping at the seams to contain them. Blaise and Daphne were her minions. Blaise was a thin boy with mud black hair that almost looked like it was a wig and his features were sharp and shrewd like a shrew. He was tall and gangly where Pansy was squat and wide.

Daphne was not too tall and not too short. She was fit and athletic and her hair was cut short. And she always smelled like tuna fish sandwiches. These three looked like people who would normally be bullied or picked on but surprisingly in a small town like Dusty Acres in the middle of nowhere Montana, that was not the case.

They had muscled their way to the top and stayed there, oppressing others. Others like Hermione.

"Or she thought she could even leave," Daphne snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "She needs to be taught some manners."

"Phew, but not until after she showers. She smells," Blaise mimed, pinching his nose.

Hermione knew better than to talk. It would get her nowhere. She just had to grit her teeth and let it go.

"Good thing we have just the thing she needs to freshen up," Pansy chuckled, positively gleeful in what would happen next. She pulled out a soda liter bottle, filled with yellow liquid. Hermione swallowed harshly. She knew what this was.

She knew what was going to happen next and yet she could do nothing about it. Her hands shook and she shoved them into her pockets to stop the trembling. She couldn't let them see how much this bothered her.

Pansy uncapped it and while her minions laughed loudly, she poured it over Hermione's head. The worst part wasn't the smell. It was that it was still warm.

Bile crawled up her mouth but she stood there, letting it happen. It poured down her hair, matting it, down her back, turning her skin sticky, and down her clothes, soaking them. She was going to smell like urine for miles.

"There, an improvement," Pansy said, shaking out the last few drops. A puddle had formed at Hermione's feet. Snickering they tossed the bottle away and left Hermione standing there, dripping wet, so pissed off and shocked and angry that-that she just walked away, socks squelching in her shoes as she walked all the way back home. She held her book-bag in front of her to protect herself from the judgmental stares but her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She hated this. Hated them. Hated her life. Why was it so pathetic? She sniffled, holding back the tears and threw herself through her front door when she got home. She rushed up the stairs, stripping off her clothes and ran the shower hot, crouching down and crying in it as the scalding water hit her back. She cried. Cried out everything in her soul.

She wanted them dead.

She had never been so offended before. So mortified. So devastatingly humiliated.

How could people be so cruel to each other?

When at last her crying subsided, she scrubbed her skin raw, cleaned her hair at least three times and then wrapped up in a fluffy robe she went to wash her clothes. Luckily her parents weren't here, both working late on a Friday night.

Her hands kept turning into fists and she couldn't help the hurt welling up in her. She had put up with a lot. But this had crossed the line. And she knew they would only keep crossing the line until they pushed too hard and she really got hurt. There was no telling what next they would do. She was scared. For her life.

Clothes washed, she crawled into bed, too upset to do anything more today. Outside the sky had turned dark and stormy and by the time she had finally managed to fall into an emotionally exhausted slumber, a full blown storm was under way. And so were her dreams.

This time they were clear.

She awoke in a bedroom. A bedroom that wasn't hers. It was lavish and wherever she was it was night time. She was wearing a nightgown and not her robe from before. Slipping the slippers onto her feet, she got up, sliding out from expensive sheets. Where was she? Why was she here?

The door to her left creaked open by itself, sort of like an invitation, and she decided why not follow it. Perhaps someone was there who could help her.

"Hello?" she called out but when she got no answer she went to the door and pushed it open. It lead out into a dimly lit hallway. She peered out and something told her to follow it to the end and go down the stairs. So she did just that, reasoning that since it was a dream nothing bad could happen to her that hadn't already happened to her in real life.

She went down the stairs, hearing a soft humming song. Like a lullaby. It was a woman's voice. She followed it down the stairs and through a living room to another pair of stairs, this one leading to a basement of sorts. Everything in this house was made of dark wood and the rooms barely lit. It gave the house a sense of mystery. Of secrets.

But she wasn't afraid. The melody being hummed sounded familiar. And not in the manner that she had heard it before, but in that her bones, her sinew, her very blood, could resonate with it. That this song was a primal thing every human would know if they heard it and yet she had no name for.

She crept down the stairs in her white attire, it flowing around her legs like sheets in the wind. She could feel an indescribable power radiating from here. It sent her hairs prickling and yet she was not scared. She got to the bottom and saw a mass of black standing over something. More accurately, it was a woman, made of the very essence of night time things. Black clothing, black hair, black nails, all blending into the dark of the basement, only lit by floating candles.

It became clear to Hermione the woman was stirring something. Like a giant pot. She reached to shelves and took out items from jars before tossing them in. Some produced smoke, others bursts of color, or smells that made Hermione's nose wrinkle.

The humming stopped, the woman's skilled work continuing. "I see you've finally made it."

"Made it?" Hermione choked out.

The woman's voice was gravelly and it tugged at something in Hermione's heart. Every word that came out the other's mouth was dark like the black around her body, as odd as that sounded. But Hermione just knew that there was a difference between how regular people spoke and how this woman did. It was like she spoke with a power, with a different presence of mind. And it wasn't a good thing. It sent shivers down spines, made heart rates spike, made screams grow in quivering mouths and made lungs sharply draw in air. That was what her words could do to someone. But that wasn't what they did to Hermione.

They made her think of dirty things. Not things like spilled drinks, or left over food devoured by flies. But of naughty happenings between two heated bodies, yearning for release. It made her feel hot all over and her palms tingled as she held back the urge to dig hands in hair, to nip at lips until they screamed out of desire, melting under her force of touch.

"Yes. I've been trying to reach you for quite some time. But you always had a block on you. And now...now I can. And it's all because you've finally reached that dark point."

"Connecting to me...dark point? What are you talking about?" Nothing was making sense. Was her mind, her subconscious, trying to explain away her odd dreams?

"It's time, Hermione," the woman stated, stopping in her motions. She turned around slowly and Hermione choked back on a gasp.

The woman was beautiful. She was a living contrast. While her hair was as dark as the hidden depths of an ocean, her skin was paper white, stretched over high bones. Her lips were red like fresh blood and her eyes were all black, not an iota of white to be seen. She was young and old at the same time; ageless in a way that Hermione could not make sense of.

"You're of age. More than of age. It is time for you to claim what is yours and to take back revenge at your bullies for what they've done to you," the woman stated, coming closer to Hermione with slow steps that swayed her hips. She stopped when she was an inch away from Hermione. This close the brunette could smell the other's scent. It was like lilies with a hint of nutmeg.

The woman cupped Hermione's cheek and examined her face with black eyes that reflected Hermione's own uncertain expression. Otherwise they were unreadable and it couldn't even be deciphered where she was looking.

"What is mine to claim?" she questioned.

The woman merely quirked up one corner of her lip and went back to her cauldron, scooping up a ladelful and putting it into a small tube. She came back and pressed the tube into Hermione's hands.

"Use this on one of them. Put it in their food or drink. And you'll see what potential you have," she said, leaning down and kissing Hermione on the forehead and then Hermione was awake.

She sat up in her bed, gasping and forehead tingling where she had been kissed. She threw the covers off and looked out the window where dawn was just breaking, the rays of light catching the dew from the rains last night. Had...had that been real? It felt real to her.

She pressed her head against the cool glass to get rid of the tingling kiss and when she turned around, blowing out a breath because of how odd that had all been, she saw it. The test tube from the dream lying on her desktop drawer.

A shiver of unease went down her spine as she picked it up. No way. How was this...how could this be here?

So the dream had been real? They had all been real, all along?

She looked on at the innocuous liquid in the tube. The woman from the dream had told her to use it in her bullies sustenance. But how could she even sneak it in? And what did it do?

Did she dare to find out?

She shouldn't-but then again, they had done so many terrifying things to her. So many fucked up things to her.

Her arm still stung where they had carved their initials into her forearm. She would forever carry their influence on her skin, no matter where she went.

She would do it. She would put this into their drink and see what happened. She hid it into her bottom drawer and didn't think on it again until it was time to go back to school on Monday.

* * *

"Hey piss face," Blaise greeted as Hermione walked up the stairs to start her school day. It was like he was waiting on her. No, he _was_ waiting on her. Already preying on her as early as eight in the morning. Didn't he ever get tired? His group of boy friends chuckled along with him and she tried to shuffle past him but they blocked the top of the stairs.

"Blaise," she hissed, just wanting to get to class. She didn't want to be late.

"Blaise," he mimicked in a whiny voice. "That's what you sound like. Like a baby."

She tried to move to the left but she couldn't. She was blocked and none of the incoming students did anything to help her. They just hurried their steps because they didn't want to become involved. If one was marked for bullying than anyone who helped them would also suffer the same fate. No one wanted that.

"Getting annoyed?" he teased, shoving her a little. She nearly lost her balance.

"Afraid to be late to class, teacher's pet?" Todd added, also shoving her. Soon the five boys were all trying to do that.

"Stop that!" she hissed, trying to keep her balance, trying to keep from falling, but one hard shove from Blaise and her heel slipped. She went flying backwards, papers falling from her satchel book bag as she fell backwards.

She hit her head hard on one of the steps edges. Hard enough to black out for a few seconds. When she came too, they were gone and the bell had rung for class. She sat up, grimacing in pain and touching the back of her head only to see there was blood there.

Her face scrunched up but she told herself she would not cry. She would not. She gathered her papers and shoved them back in, deciding to stop on the way to the nurse's office. She needed an ice pack.

When she got there, the nurse sat her down and went to examine her wound. "What happened?" the older nun asked.

"I lost my footing on the stairs and hit my head."

They both knew by now that it wasn't the case but the nurse could do nothing about it. Blaise's grandfather ran this school. He wouldn't kick him out no matter what he or his friends did. If this school wasn't the best school for an education in Montana, Hermione would have long left it. But short of going to another town, which she couldn't since she was underaged, she didn't have much in the way for options.

"Let me see." The nurse tsked and fretted but she leaned back, shaking her head. "I don't see anything there."

"But...but I was bleeding there! I was!" Hermione stressed, unsure why the blood wasn't there anymore. She rubbed harder at her head, thinking it would show up if she exerted more pressure.

"I don't even see a bruise, Hermione. Your head is fine."

And it was fine. Hermione took in a deep breath and found even the pain was gone. How...odd. She shook her head. "I must have...not fallen as hard as I thought," she muttered out at last, gathering her things and feeling more confused than hurt.

"I'll give you a slip so you won't be marked late," the nurse said and Hermione took it gratefully. As she walked back to class she rubbed the back of her head, but indeed, no blood came off on her fingers, and there wasn't even the faintest tinge of pain there anymore.

* * *

Hermione knew after what Blaise had done to her on the stairs, he was going to be the target of the potion she had in her bag. Luckily, it hadn't broken during the fall. The only issue was with getting it in his food or drink. She was never close enough to do it. Unless she faked going to the bathroom during gym and snuck into the boys locker room and poured it into his bottle.

Yes, she would have to do that. She was smarting over how he had pushed her. She could have seriously been hurt! And he had treated it as a joke, mocking her in between the halls over it. "How's your noggin, Hermione?"

She ignored him and the several jibes other students sent her way about the piss incident. Pansy and Daphne had no doubt spread it and all the girls began to pinch their nose and wave their hands around her like she smelled still. She didn't.

Her hands curled up into fists.

She swore, one day she would get her revenge. They would all have shit lives and she would be on top. She swore it.

But first, Blaise.

He had to pay for what he did this morning.

* * *

Sneaking in wasn't that hard. It wasn't like anyone paid too much attention to what she did, given she was a loser and all. And the teachers all trusted and liked her, thinking her unable to do any trouble. So while a brutal game of volleyball was going on outside, Hermione found Blaise's locker, poured the tube into the drink, and left.

She felt a smidgen of regret for what she did. She had no idea what the potion did- and why did she even feel bad for him? He had made her life hell. She owed him this in the least. Yet, she was antsy the whole time, watching with eagle eyes as he drank heartily out of his bottle after gym was over.

If she had been expecting an immediate reaction she was sorely disappointed yet relieved at the same time. It had been fake.

False hope.

Of course, how the hell had she even gotten it? She still didn't understand how it was possible. Maybe she had sleep walked and made that? But how would she know to do it? Then again, she heard sleep walking people did crazy things and the stress could have effected her, making her do something she'd never done before.

She took her thoughts off of the dark haired boy and went about her day. It was in 7th period that she heard something.

"Did you hear about Blaise?"

Normally Hermione didn't pay attention to this sort of gossip but she was curious as if the potion had any affect on Blaise. She hadn't seen anything. She had thought it useless. But maybe it hadn't been.

"He's been walking around declaring himself gay and trying to kiss any guy around he sees."

"Ew, gross," giggled one girl. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. But it's weird."

Huh, Hermione chewed on her pencil end. Blaise had done that? Was it because of the potion? But why did it effect him this way?

She leaned slightly more to the left to hear what else they had to say.

"Yea, and like one dude punched him hard in the face for it and broke his nose. So funny," said the other girl, chewing her gum loudly. Before they could continue, class was begun by the teacher. Hermione felt a small smile grace her lips. So, he had gotten hurt. A fraction of the pain he had caused her, given back to him.

She needed to know more about that potion. And about the woman that had given it to her.

* * *

That evening she rushed home, finishing all her work and eating her supper before climbing into her bed. She wanted to see the other woman, but her impatience and anxiety to do so kept her up for hours, unable to enter sleep.

"Damn it!" she hissed out, annoyed. She threw a pillow across the room. She had been tossing and turning for hours now. She needed to know! She needed to-

She took a deep calming breath. She needed to calm down. She closed her eyes and thought of oceans, of roaring waves. She counted sheep. She relaxed into the sheets, thinking them oh so soft. Like clouds she could melt into. She took deep breaths and tried to clear her mind. Eventually, she blissfully drifted off and as soon as she did, she jolted awake.

This time she was sitting at a long table, at one end of it. She was wearing a long white dress with long sleeves, pearls like buttons down the front, and a neck that covered up to her jaw line. It was so stiff she could barely swallow or look down. In front of her was a silver plate with delicious cuts of meat on it and roasted potatoes. The forks and spoons and knives were also made of silver and so was the goblet. She raised it to her lips and looked at the thick sluggish red material in it.

Was that blood? Or tomato juice? She didn't want to know. She set it down. The clinking of a utensil on plate alerted her to the presence of another person here. On the far end of the other table sat the woman from before.

She was wearing a dress that was the same as Hermione's but in black. Her hair was done up in a bun. She was cutting up what looked like to be bloody pieces of steak.

"You," Hermione started and the woman tsked. Though they sat far apart, Hermione could hear every word crystal clear.

"Is that anyway to greet someone?" she asked playfully, that voice of hers making Hermione's insides warm for reasons she wasn't ready yet for.

"I don't know your name," she replied with. She tried to get up from her chair but found she couldn't.

"You will earn my name when you are worthy of pronouncing it," came the elegant and haughty response. She ate a piece of meat and Hermione tried not to cringe at the blood leaking out of it. How could anyone eat something so raw?

"And how do I earn it?"

"By doing as you are told. By unlocking your destiny."

"And what is that?"

The woman smiled, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. What lipstick did she wear, for it did not ever seem to rub off. She stood up, grabbing her goblet and sashaying over to Hermione. When she was close enough she leaned her hip into the table and crossed her arms one over the other.

Her nails were very sharp today, Hermione noticed.

"That, my dear Hermione, is to become the best witch you can be."

Hermione's mouth gaped open, and she sputtered in incredulity. "Me? A witch? I _can't_ be."

"Oh, but you _are_. And destined to be one of the more powerful ones. Like me," the woman husked, tracing one sharp nail up Hermione's resting arm on the table, raising goosebumps in her wake. The nail stopped once it got to Hermione's chin, lifting it up. "You are going to do amazing things, Hermione."

"But how-"

That same finger quickly shushed her lips. "I will help you. In fact, I already have." She drew the finger away.

"The potion. What did the potion do?"

"My, my. You could not even wait a single day to use it, could you?" the woman hummed, taking a sip of her drink. "It only revealed his true nature."

"So Blaise's actually gay? He's been gay this whole time?" Hermione felt like laughing. Oh, this would not sit well with her Catholic school. The same thing Blaise bullied others for, he would now become bullied for as well.

"I thought it a nice bit of justice. Of course, it's not enough. He deserves so much worse for what he did to you, don't you agree?"

"I...I don't," Hermione frowned, looking at her hands.

"Of course you. You felt it deep within your soul. You felt happy but only a little. He did so many terrible things to you and you want to be the one to hurt him. With your own two hands. Not have some silly little potion do the work."

Hermione frowned harder.

How did this woman know? How could she read her so well? "But what I truly desire and what I should do are different things," she said because even though others hadn't been good to her, she should be good to them.

"Come, Hermione, you want to kill them. I know you do."

How did she know that? "That was only a passing thought-"

"But dark enough that it allowed me to finally connect to you," the woman interjected. "And for a witch, desire and what we should do are the same thing. We have no limits, only those we prescribe to ourselves," the woman leaned in, black eyes hungry on Hermione.

"Let me help you. Let me train you before you say no. Taste what I have to offer first and then make the decision."

"You'll really let me do that? And if I say no?"

"Then I leave you alone. Find someone else to train," the woman shrugged, nonchalant. "But you'll never have the chance to be something more. To be the best witch you can be."

Hermione liked being the best at everything she did. And if she was destined to be powerful. Like a truly powerful witch...then why not? She could use her powers for good. Could stop other kids from being bullied like her. It was decided.

"Alright," she sucked in a breath, nodded her head. "I'll do it."

"Very good," the woman smiled, revealing all her bright gleaming teeth. "We'll start tomorrow." She leaned off the table. "Are you not going to try the steak? I had it made for you."

Hermione looked at it, wondering if she could even eat it. She cut into, wincing at the blood that flowed out. When she looked up at the woman, inquiring wordlessly if she had to eat this, the woman merely arched her brow. Like she was testing her.

So she opened her mouth wide and bit into it.

Hermione woke up, spitting out a mouthful of blood. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand wanting to get rid of the horrid taste. As she got out of bed to go brush her teeth she saw a note on her desk top. It was a black card and in elegant script it read "best of luck for today, my star".

Hermione thumbed the card, feeling a glimmer of warmth in her chest. Someone who knew of her bullying situation and who cared for her, and who actually could help her with it. It felt nice.

She found herself forgetting about the taste of blood in her mouth as she smiled softly with new found hope.


	2. It Continues

* * *

_See, I don't want to hurt you_

_But I have no other choice too_

_I'm sorry about this_

_But you made me do it_

_-You Made me Do it, Tommee Profitt-_

* * *

Her third clear and concise dream with that mysterious dark haired witch took place in the dark woods. Hermione found herself walking through brush, pushing branches back and carefully tugging free her white dress from grabbing brambles. The trees were tall around her and the night was lit up by a massive bonfire that Hermione could smell the smoke from.

Laughter and howling also came from the direction of it and something told Hermione to walk towards there. A dark shadow melted out from the trees and the woman of her dreams matched pace with her, a delighted smile on her carmine lips.

"What is going on now?" Hermione asked. The air was chilly which meant this forest must be far up north for it to be this cold this time of year.

"Your ritual. You accepted to be a witch and now you must bind your decision."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, giving the witch next to her a good look. "You said I could back out of it if I wanted to?"

"And you still can. This is more of a ceremonial matter that shows you off as my new pupil. And it's also a way for you to meet some other witches."

The woman hurried ahead and Hermione rushed after her. There was a thrumming in these woods that made them alive in a way they should or could not be. It was like every last leaf and branch had eyes and was watching her, judging her. It sent shivers down her spine and she had no intention to walk them alone.

"But am I actually a witch?" Hermione questioned. All last night and this day she had pondered over this. Certainly, being a witch explained such things as the vial and the card appearing in her room. But if she had magic, why hadn't she been able to use it prior? Why now did this all become revealed?

"Because, as I said before, you finally had a truly dark thought."

"So all witches are evil? Guided by darkness?" Hermione asked, not liking where this was going. If so, she didn't want to be a witch. She didn't want to turn evil. To be bad like her bullies.

"Silly girl," the woman tsked. "You still have much to learn. Witches and darkness go hand in hand. But you mustn't think darkness is wrong. Or evil. It isn't. There are layers to it. Some layers you can use for yourself, can use to protect yourself in. Others you cannot because those are the ones that will corrupt you. But that is why you have a mentor to guide you. To make sure you do not stray." They had finally arrived close enough to the bonfire, but yet not breached the clearing in which it was in.

"And my powers-"

"Have not manifested because they don't know how. Though I'm certain you've noticed that any wounds you get can now heal by themselves."

Hermione frowned. So that was why her head wound was gone. But still, she had more she needed to know.

"So then how do _you_ know I am actually a witch?" Hermione said, having too many questions crammed in her head and not enough answers.

"We just know. All witches are connected one way or another. We know one of our own kind. And you will too, once you finish training. Now," the woman held out her hand. "Are you ready to join us?"

Hermione wasn't. But if she wanted answers, she had no choice but to go ahead.

She grasped the woman's hand in hers. It was so smooth and cool to the touch and it gave her confidence.

When she exited into the clearing she saw there was a circle of witches there. They all were different ages, some as old as the sands of Egypt, faces lined and sunken in while their bodies sagged. And some so young that they were children not much older than nine.

And they were wearing different clothing. Some were stiff and formal, Puritan like. Others were colorful, like a rainbow had exploded over them.

Had they all arrived here in person or where they only here in their dream like state like Hermione?

Some witches were standing in the trees on the branches, reminding Hermione of crows. Others were on the forest floor, sitting cross legged, or standing. They had been chatting but stopped when Hermione came into the clearing.

All eyes turned to her and she felt self conscious. But the dark haired witch's hand on hers tightened to hold her there. To prevent her from turning back into the bushes and running. "We have a new member. The lovely Hermione Granger. She embarks upon the quest of becoming a witch just like us."

One woman exited the group. Hermione hadn't seen her before but she was remarkable looking in an interesting way. She was short, about Hermione's height, maybe two inches shorter. Her hair was long and blonde and plaited with many miscellaneous objects. Like feathers, keys, sticks and flowers. She wore a colorful bandanna on her head that matched the tie dye nature of her clothing. The material was loose on her and there were over a dozen necklaces on her neck. Some made from beads, some from animal nails, bones, and teeth. Her wrists were also weighed down by many bracelets made of the same material.

And completing her look was a pair of pink glasses that reflected Hermione's face.

"Welcome, young Hermione Granger, witch of the seventh moon under the house of Mercury."

Hermione had no idea what that meant but allowed the blonde haired witch to take her hands and sort of bow over them. "I am Luna Lovegood, witch of the first house and first moon. I serve the stars of Aries and Leo so that they may bring us all good fortunes. Come with me, we shall start the ceremony so you may join us as sisters."

Luna pulled Hermione away, the dark haired witch from Hermione's dream following a half step after. "Do you have any questions before we begin?" she breathed out and Hermione swallowed deeply. "Will, will this hurt?"

"No. It shouldn't."

That wasn't reassuring at all but it was too late now. And surely, a dream couldn't hurt a lot, could it?

Luna stood on one end of the fire, Hermione on the other and the dark haired witch on the other spot. Silence reigned around them, even the night creatures going quiet.

Luna was handed a wooden bowl by one of the witches in the crowd. She grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the fire. It turned blueish green. "Hermione Granger, do you swear before the sacred fire that you want to become a witch?"

The fire crackled as it awaited her answer. She wasn't certain entirely, but her curiosity begged her to say yes. So she did. "Yes."

The fire roared at this, leaping at bit higher and she took a step back to avoid the heat.

"And do you promise to learn the ways of the dark arts."

"Yes."

The fire jumped again before dying down, as if each answer cemented Hermione's fate more.

"Do you promise to be loyal to your sisters in arms?"

"Yes." Another whoosh of flame each time she responded yes.

"Do you promise to protect your kind, to never do harm to them, or reveal the nature of our kind?"

"Yes."

Each affirmation was easier to say than the last.

"Do you promise to do as you are told by your mentor?"

"Yes."

Luna then turned to the dark witch.

"And do you, Bellatrix Black nee Lestrange, of the mighty house of the Black Sun, consent to being Hermione's mentor?"

Bellatrix. What a fitting name for such a witch.

Bellatrix stuck out her chin. "Yes."

Two witches came from the crowd, one to Bellatrix and one to Hermione. "Hold out your hand child," instructed the silver toothed older woman and Hermione did as asked. Her palm shook with nerves but it was grasped tightly between the witch's gnarled fingers and then she produced a knife from her pocket. It was made of stone and tied with leather to a wooden handle. It looked prehistoric. And before Hermione could even gasp, the knife made a line down her palm and blood pooled free. It stung and Hermione grit her teeth against the pain. The knife disappeared and was replaced by a small chalice. Hermione's hand was tipped over and the blood went into the cup, the elder witch squeezing so that more blood could get out. When it had filled enough, she let go of Hermione's hand and gave her the cup.

Luna raised her hands up. "Let the sacred fire bind with blood the relationship."

Following Bellatrix's motions, Hermione dumped the cup of her blood into the fire at the same time her new mentor did. The flames roared up, turning purple before dying back down to their normal hue. "Now what?" Hermione asked as the witches around them clapped and hooted at the union. The ones in the trees rattled the branches and let out witch like cackles, making leaves rain down.

Hermione didn't feel any different by the ceremony. Would her powers really be unlocked now?

"That is all," her mentor said, smiling and the dancing flames shadows lent her an inhuman look. "Now, we drink and dance and enjoy nature."

And so they did. A crowd of witches surrounded Hermione, all eager to get to know her and to celebrate the joining of a new sister. Bellatrix took an offered cup of drink for herself and leaned against the tree trunk, watching as Hermione began to navigate the world around her.

It was all a bit overwhelming and the night went by in a flurry of pagan music beating a heart beat rhythm to her right, witches talking and introducing themselves to her and her drinking some sort of drink called fire whiskey that felt like fire when it went down her throat.

Steadily as she got drunker she began to dance in front of the fire and it wasn't until the sun began to rise that Hermione finally retired to rest under a pine tree on a bed of dead needles. No sooner had she put her heavy head down than she wakes up the next morning with the fading sound of howling witches in her ears and with the taste of wine still on her tongue.

She scrubs her face and sits up slowly, groaning. She's tired, aching all over, and thinks she might be still drunk. But she's not want to stay home from school, so she gets up, motions slow and sluggish.

When she gets to the bathroom she finds a potion on the counter for her. It's pink and in a bottle that's round with a cork on top. She plucks the note off of it. _Drink me. It'll make you feel better._

Bellatrix must have left it for her and her chest swells with warmth. Her mentor already cares for her like family or a friend. But the thought of anything going inside her mouth makes Hermione feel like hurling so she pockets it and decides maybe once she can swallow something down, she'll drink it.

As she goes to wash her face she noticed a red mark on her hand that is so faint. It must have been healed up by her witch abilities. Already it doesn't hurt and as she rubs it, she ponders to think what marvels will she be able to make when she advances her skills. She washes her face and hurries to get to school.

She's so hung over she barely pays attention to any insults slung her way, or even on what's happening in class. She only gets to first period before she feels sick. Sick enough that she needs to leave class. She rushes out, face pale and makes it just in time to the bathroom.

She feels a bit better afterwards and decides maybe now she can swallow down the potion. She does it, with still some difficulty. It has a bubblegum taste and when it goes down she feels some of her headache go away as well as the cramps and dizziness. It's more manageable now.

She's splashing water to cool her sweaty red face, when she hears the doors bang open. It's Daphne in all her bitchy glory.

"Heard you were sick," she sneers nastily. "So, how many pups will it be. And what breed? Pug? German Shepard? Dalmatian?"

The teasing makes Hermione sick to the stomach but for once she's more set on her miserable hangover than on any pain her bully can cause her. "Hey, answer me!" Daphne shrills and approached Hermione, wrapping a hand in her hair and pulling her taunt against her.

Hermione hisses and anger flares in her chest. She sure as hell wished her powers would manifest. That way she could get Daphne to leave her alone.

As if activated by her thoughts, the mirror in between them cracks and then shatters in a burst of shards. Daphne squeaks and turns her back on the glass while the shards harmlessly patter off of Hermione's face.

"What was that?" Daphne asks, wide eyed. Hermione's heart is hammering and she's thinking _holy shit_. So she does have powers! But can she control them?

When Hermione doesn't say anything, to cover up her weakness and fear, Daphne spits one last jibe at her before vacating the bathroom. "Your ugly face broke the mirror. Wait until I tell everyone this!"

But Hermione could care less about this. She can't wait to tell her mentor on what happened. She looks at the blank spot where the mirror is and her lips make an impressed o shape.

At home, homework is rushed through and dinner is as well, so that Hermione can enter a dream world where her mentor will be waiting for her.

This time she wakes up wearing light gray garbs of a loose fitting dress. And she's in the room she was in when she first met Bellatrix. The woman is standing by a huge cauldron, filling it with hot water. "Well, you're early."

"I wanted to tell you something," Hermione starts, a bit breathlessly.

"Did the potion help?"

"Yes, it did. But...I broke a mirror today out of anger. With my magic."

Bellatrix smiles at this. "Good. You're powers are starting to manifest. However, we must make haste in honing them. Your magic will continue to grow and if you don't know how to control it, than it can hurt you and others." She put the bucket down, the cauldron filled. "That is why today, we are going to make a potion of Coercitio."

"What's that?"

"A potion that will restrain your powers until you can control them without harming yourself. We'll make a batch and you will take one drop each day." Bellatrix beckoned Hermione to come closer.

"I don't know how to brew potions," Hermione protested. What if she made a mistake? Could she kill someone with a wrongly brewed potion?

"Do you want to learn to be a witch or not?" Bellatrix cocked her head, testing her.

"I want to do good. I do. I want to be a proper witch. Or at least learn more about my heritage."

"You have much studying to do, than, young Hermione. But fear not, I'll send you some books that you can use to study on the culture, history and what else of witch heritage. But while you are in the dreams with me, you focus only on the task I give you," she stated, clutching Hermione's chin in her long fingers across the cauldron. "Do you understand?" Her black eyes looked hungry for an answer so Hermione quickly nodded her head yes. She did not like disappointing teachers.

"I understand, Bell-"

"You will not call me by my first name," she cut in sharply, nails making marks on Hermione's smooth flesh. "Until you have earned that right, you will address me as Miss Black. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hermione obediently said and in a quiet voice. She had never expected her mentor to be this sharp.

"Good," Bellatrix purred, letting go. "Now, I want you to grab me eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog, and adders fork."

Hermione's eyes bulged out. "Witches really do use eye of newt in their potions?"

"Don't be silly. Those are just our names for simple ingredients that are actually flowers, derived so as to put off humans from stumbling across one of our spells and using them. Eye of newt is mustard seed, toe of frog is buttercup, wool of bat is holly leaves, tongue of dog is hounds tongue and adders fork is adders tongue."

Huh, Hermione hadn't known that. But she still didn't know what those ingredients were. "I don't know what those are," Hermione said, feeling a bit vapid to announce this.

"The jars are labeled. Be a good girl and read the labels and take them down."

Hermione peered over the rows and rows of labeled jars. Bellatrix's handwriting was difficult to read, as it was a mix between cursive and chicken scratch, so Hermione had to ponder over some of the bottles until she found the right ones. She brought the correct one's back to Bellatrix.

"Listen carefully to my instructions. You must add specific measurements of the ingredients so as not to make mistakes. Simply adding one drop of something else can mess up a whole potion and render it incapable of being consumed."

Hermione intently listened and stirred the cauldron like she was instructed to. Almost like magic, perhaps because it _was_ magic, the potion came to life before her very eyes and soon she was scooping a ladelful out and into a small bottle for her to take back.

Her mentor did not dole out praise easily. Only looked at Hermione like this was expected of her and nothing less.

"Use this with restraint. If you use too much, even if it is brewed well enough, it can still cause adverse affects, such as constipation and inability to speak properly because the potion can restrain many things more than just your power."

Hermione nodded her head, admiring the glowing pink property of this drink. A thrill ran through her. She had just brewed her first potion. She was on her way to becoming a proper witch.

The rest of her lesson that night was spent familiarizing herself with the typical ingredients a witch used and bottling up the rest of the potion.

When Hermione awoke that morning, she found a hefty stack of dark and ancient tomes on her desk. These were the books Bellatrix promised her. Lying on top was her card with the elegant gold script. _Make sure to read and study these. I will test you at the end of the month._ Hermione glanced at her calendar. That would be in two weeks time. Could she manage to read all these books and memorize everything?

She would only know if she tried.

Hiding an excited grin she went to the bathroom so she could take a drop of her newly concocted potion and get ready for school.

* * *

Hermione would get antsy sitting in her classes now. It was hard to be enthralled by math or English or even the science they were learning when she had so many more interesting and fantastical things waiting for her at home. Science wasn't even correct anymore, because the way magic functioned, bent the rules of science to some extent and Hermione would love to prove her teacher wrong, to reveal to others that she knew about a spectacular thing. She longed to show off her magic skills to them. But she could not. She had to keep the secret safe.

Two weeks passed by quickly with only minimal bullying. Just the usual fare- trashing her locker, ruining her desk with graffiti, throwing spit balls at her, pushing her in the halls. But this didn't bother her anymore. Not like it once had. Her mind was too preoccupied with witch work and pondering over the latest marvel to even care.

She doodled on her notes in class, drawing symbols she had seen on her wiccan textbooks. When she got home she would rush through her day's work, and her meals before clambering into bed so she could get the most out of her dreams. And each morning when she awoke before her alarm at seven, she cursed the fact she had to be interrupted.

Bellatrix would alternate their sessions between making potions and mediation. Apparently mediating helped with being able to tap into the well of magic inside Hermione.

"Witches are magical beings. Beings that can tap into the well of magic in this world. Inside us is a battery, in more modern terms, that we can use and use until it is time to recharge. However, we can exhaust our own batteries quite easily. So it is important to be able to tap into the magic of the world. It is like a giant river that runs underneath our feet wherever we may be. Some areas are more magical than others and provide us with lots of magic. Others less so."

"And how do I know what those areas are?" Hermione asked as she sat crossed legged on a mat with six candles lit around her in a circle. Bellatrix paced around, talking and waving sage root around, the smoke of it wrapping around Hermione like a suffocating blanket.

"You have too many questions. You must quiet your mind. You must look deep inside yourself."

"I can't. I don't know how."

"You will. Otherwise we will get nowhere," Bellatrix said unapologetically. "You have much magical potential inside you. Do not waste it."

Hermione let out a huffy breath and tried. Each time she felt like she had calm, it slipped away and she grew frustrated. But, she knew without this, she wouldn't be able to move ahead with her training.

Potion making was going more smoothly for Hermione. She was detailed with her work and a perfectionist, so she was able to finely chop herbs and other ingredients like asked. Soon she was making potions for baldness, for colds, for aches and pains. Potions that were harmless in a sense.

"You'll make more interesting potions soon. Potions that cause twisted hearts and minds and bodies."

"Will they hurt others?"

"They can. Which is why it is mainly illegal to brew them and actually use them. The ingredients to make them are closely regulated and only in cases of intellectual pursuit or governmental use are these potions allowed. So, it will be okay for us to make them. What you choose to do with them afterwards, is up to you," Bellatrix gave a devious smirk and a wink. "I won't tell."

Hermione tingled with the urge to test them out. To see the effects in person. As if sensing that, Bellatrix brought a participant for their next potion making session.

Hermione had just brewed an Aquae Super Terram, or water on land potion, the effects of which Bellatrix had not said anything about. Instead of being in the basement that day, they ended up in a room upstairs where it was a study of some sort. At the small desk sat a man with a blank look on his face, just looking on at the wall, not even turning his head when they came in.

Hermione had not expected another guest in Bellatrix's mansion, for it was only ever the two of them and she wondered what he was doing here.

Hermione was forced to face the man before her.

"Who is this?" she whispered from the side of her mouth.

"A man who volunteered to help us," Bellatrix said, not bothering to be quiet as they talked about him. "Tell him to drink the potion."

Something told Hermione this man wasn't here of his free will but who was she to question her mentor.

"Uh, okay." She cleared her throat, turned to the man, potion in her hand. "Drink this."

He rose up and took it without question, his eyes unblinking. Hermione watched in mild fascination as he upended it into his mouth. But her fascination soon turned to horror as his skin began to turn blue.

"What's going on?" she panicked, backing away from him as he dropped to his knees, grabbing his throat and sputtering as his eyes bulged.

"The potion is working. Splendid job in brewing it," Bellatrix said contently, arms folded behind her back as she watched. Hermione turned to her with panic in her eyes as the man continued to struggle. Water poured out of his mouth; he was choking on it.

"We need to stop this! He's going to die!" But Bellatrix merely waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss those concerns. "He won't die." She produced a slim vial from her pocket. "This is the counter potion. Squeeze two drops into his ear and all should be well."

Hermione snatched it so quickly from Bellatrix's hand that she nearly dropped it. She rushed to do as told and immediately saw an effect. The man's face went back to normal and the water stopped pouring from his mouth. He stood back up to his feet and resumed sitting in his chair as if nothing had occurred.

"You are dismissed," Bellatrix told the man. He left the room without another word.

"Now, we are going to have you learn on making the counter potion," Bellatrix announced though Hermione was still shaken over what had happened. Were they not going to talk about it? How could her mentor be so casual about this?

Maybe the older witch was just used to this. Something about her confident demeanor spoke of being through many trials and of overcoming them no matter how gruesome. Hermione needed to have that attitude if she wanted to be a proper witch. If she wanted to be the best. So she stopped her trembling and held her back out as she followed after her mentor.

* * *

"And who was the first well known witch to found the Order of the Witches?"

"Hecuba," Hermione answered back like a snap. She was ready. She had studied for this test and she was determined to ace it.

Bellatrix did not look impressed, only fired out more questions like a machine gun, barely pausing to hear Hermione's answer.

"And who was the first notable wizard to make a codus of conduct for magic kind?"

"Merlin?"

"What was the name of the first book of spells?"

"Incantamentum Prior."

"Who wrote it?"

"Hecuba's grandchild, Myrtle Whitewood."

"Who created wizarding parliament?"

"Sygor Nightfall. Who did it because he wanted peace between the clans of witches and wizards and wanted to unite them against the humans in case of war."

"Last one: Hogwarts. Who were the four founders?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor."

Bellatrix let a small smile grow on her lips. "Very good. But there is still much more you must learn." She patted a new stack of books next to her. "Today we won't be having lessons. You can take this time to take a break and start studying new material."

That wasn't really much of a break, but who was Hermione to deny or reject more knowledge about her bloodline? She cracked open a dusty tome and began to read avidly as her mentor sat by the window, gazing outside it and twirling a finger through her inky locks.

Hermione found her eyes drawn to the visage of her mentor ever so often. She had a strong profile, high cheekbones and lips that screamed vivid red. Hermione wondered what it would be like to touch her skin. To touch the mess of her hair. To feel the scratchy material of her dress and it's high collars.

"Hungry?" Bellatrix asked, and Hermione startled, not having realized that Bellatrix was looking at her now.

"Uh, no," Hermione cleared her throat and shoved her blushing face into her book. Why was the older witch asking her if she wanted a snack? She caught the start of a satisfied smirk from the edge of her vision but Bellatrix didn't say anything more just walked out of the room with a swish of her clothing.

Hermione felt tempted to leave after her. No, it was almost like Bellatrix was hinting at her to follow. She had left the door open, after all. Hermione stood up, closed her book and followed after her mentor. She had no idea where the woman was. The house was big and empty, wood creaking with each step she took. Her hand slid on the wooden banister. It was old and worn and Hermione wondered how many other young witches had walked down these halls. Had been taught by Bellatrix. The thought of her with other women made Hermione jealous. Irrepressibly so.

She tried to drown it out by examining the rest of the house. She had only ever been in four rooms before. The bedroom, the dining room, the study, and the potions room. She knew there was more to explore.

When she got to the first floor, she found the front door open. She exited it, exited into the dark night, to see Bellatrix was standing at the front gate. She had her hands on the iron wrought gate, gazing up at the stars. Hermione approached her, the night bugs playing a symphony for them. She didn't dare speak, worried she might break whatever was going to happen. And something was going to happen. She just knew it.

"Don't be jealous," Bellatrix spoke suddenly, almost reading Hermione's thoughts.

"How do you-"

"Some witches can read minds. It's called Occumelancy. I try not to read your mind, but it's so loud." She tapped Hermione on the forehead, a cheeky grin on her face. Suddenly it made so much more sense when Bellatrix had asked if Hermione was hungry.

Hermione flushed. Had Bellatrix heard what she had been thinking of before? How mortifying!

"Don't be ashamed. You are a young girl, ready and hungry to explore the world. I was too when I was your age. Insatiable almost." She opens the gate and makes a line straight down the hills that stand in front of the manor and Hermione goes after her, like an obedient pup. There is a dark patch in front of them that gets bigger and bigger as they near. It's the woods, full of dark imposing trees and low hanging shrubbery that snatch with greedy fingers at their clothes.

"I didn't...I didn't mean to be disrespectful with my thoughts-" Hermione started, fiddling with her hands and a nervous sweat running down her neck.

Bellatrix chuckled, something dark and sultry. It slipped inside Hermione's mind and ran on repeat there until she had wrung every last enjoyment out of it.

"I'm quite flattered by your thoughts, Hermione. But you are not the first or last to think of me this way. I know my looks. I know what they make others feel."

They had come to a small lake with a waterfall falling down over some rocks. "Why are we here then?" Hermione asked.

"You thought I would punish you?"

"No. I don't know. I just..." she shrugged, not sure how to vocalize her words.

"No, I came to show you something. I figured you could use it to satisfy some of that curiosity of yours. About the occult of course, not me," Bellatrix quickly amended when she saw Hermione's thoughts once more and how they had wandered to thoughts of Bellatrix disrobing.

"Sorry. Sorry!" she scrambled out, feeling so awkward and like shit.

Bellatrix grinned a smile that was all teeth. "Don't be," she said, drawing closer to Hermione, clutching her chin in her hand. They stood so close, Hermione could feel the other woman's cool breath ghost against her cheeks when she spoke. "I think you're quite adorable myself."

"I'm not-" Hermione countered. She had been called ugly by so many. Degraded for her curly hair, her big eyes, and her frumpy outfits.

"You don't see yourself like I do, Hermione. Come," she took the younger girl's hand and lead her to the lake. In the reflection, Hermione could see herself but she was different. A good different. Her hair was curly, but not a tangled mess. It looked like movie curls. Her skin was perfectly clear and her eyes seemed to sparkle with an iridescent glow. It was like she was glowing with power one way or another. And the gray dress she was wearing was very flattering on her.

"Why do I look different?" Hermione asked in wonder, touching her hands to her face as if it couldn't be hers. She looked more confident, more at home inside her own skin.

"Because that's the true you. You just need to be able to release her. But, you'll learn with time. I actually came to show you something else." Bellatrix dug into her pocket and pulled out a wooden tool that was an instrument of some sort because when she blew into it, an odd noise came forth.

She played it for a while and soon the water of the lake began to ripple, heads popping out of the water as the strange creatures swam forward. Their eyes were cat like and they had kelp for hair. Hermione could only see half their faces and their webbed hands. The music was drawing them forth and they released some clicking warbling noises of their own.

"What are those?"

"Naiads," Bellatrix answered, stopping her music. "We are not the only magical creatures to inhabit this world. But only can those with magic touch those with magic. You'll learn more about such creatures. Not all of them are harmless," she said as the heads popped down into the water.

Hermione's grin grew large. Each day she grew more and more in love with world opened to her. She could not wait to devour all she could about it. Her magic thrummed under her skin, eager to be let out and to connect with the world around it as well.

_Soon_ , she thought.

* * *

And so Hermione trained and trained and with each session she got closer and closer to connecting with her inner magic until finally one night it happened. It was so sudden and unexpected that Hermione was taken aback by it. Breathless almost. But it felt good. Felt like meeting up with an old friend. An old friend that entirely understood her and everything she stood for. It warmed her insides, chilled them, soothed her and exalted her all at the same time.

She couldn't wait to test it out. To see how she could use her new found magic. Could she build rooms with it? Make it do her chores for her? Make her taller and stronger? So many possibilities and Bellatrix only chuckled when she read Hermione's mind.

"You'll find that magic has many possibilities but also many impossibilities. Magic can only bend the realities of physics so far before even it too has limits. But we won't be getting into magic theory. That's something a bit too philosophical and we need to focus more on action and skill rather than that."

Magic theory did sound interesting. But Hermione was certain there would be time to learn later.

"Now, I want you to focus on casting this one spell. It's a stupefy and a fundamental spell in our world. Handy for anything, like shutting up an annoying person or taking out an enemy so you can run."

"Don't I need a wand to cast magic?"

"You do. But, I simply want to see what degree your wandless magic is at. Often they say the easier it is for you to do magic without a wand, the stronger you are." To demonstrate, Bellatrix spun her wrist and then let loose a blue colored spell. It slammed into a dummy she had brought in for practice today and the dummy went flying back. With a wiggle of her finger, she righted the dummy once more.

"Try that."

Hermione sucked in a breath, willing her magic to work with her. It was coiled inside her, like a snake ready to strike. She mimicked Bellatrix's hand gesture and the dummy exploded. It startled her and she winced as some shards of wood pelted her face.

Bellatrix arched a brow at this. "A lot of magic inside you. But it's extremely volatile. It wants to get out. We'll have to train it. Think of it like training a dog."

She could feel her magic recoil at that, upset at being likened to a dog, upset at having to be restrained. Hermione soothed it by placing a hand to her chest over her heart, where her magic was the strongest. She assured it that this would be for the benefit of both of them.

But it didn't want that. It wanted to be out. It wanted to be used, especially on those that had hurt Hermione before. _Use us,_ it's voice plead, a sound like buzzing electricity and chain saws. _Make us strong. Make us protected._

It certainly amazed her that her magic was living. That it had emotions too. When she asked Bellatrix about this, the woman nodded her head knowingly. "Our magic is part of our soul and our heart. And it becomes sentient based on our personality or based on things that have occurred to us, like grand emotional events. Should a person grow up safe and sheltered than their magic will be very obedient to the owner. Should a person's life be hard, filled with depressing events, than that magic might seek to lash out instinctively at everyone."

That explained why Hermione's magic felt like this. She would need to control it, put more effort it chaining it to her. Naturally, she would do that afterwards. Now that she had it, she just wanted to see how it felt like to truly use it. Just once outside of her dream world.

"And what does your magic feel like?"

"That's a personal question, Hermione."

"Sorry," Hermione squeaked out. She hadn't known it was. "I didn't mean to-"

"But I'll indulge you just for now. My magic feels like a caged frenzied animal that wants to get out and murder everyone. To burn this world to the ground."

That sent a chill down Hermione's back as Hermione understood indeed, that her assumptions on her mentor's previous life and how full of strife it was, had not been wrong.

"You must be very strong to control it like that," Hermione commented, in awe.

"On the contrary, my star. It's to be expected of us to control our magic. To live with this other 'being' inside us. But being able to give into that magic and remain unchanged by it, _that_ is strong," Bellatrix said. And then they were moving on, Hermione being told to try out different spells in order to get a feel for using her magic and then calling it back in.

The morning after, Hermione's skin tingled with remaining magic on it. She could still feel the magic bubbling under her skin, wanting to get out now that she had finally made a connection with it. So she didn't take the potion today before she went to school. Already she could feel stronger. Feel more free. This was how it was meant to be. Having her powers at her disposal.

It was a heady emotion, and so wrapped up in it was she, that she didn't notice the three figures going into the school bathroom until it was too late. Pansy, Daphne and Blaise were all there, leering at her.

"You've got your head in the clouds lately and I don't think we like that," Pansy said, cracking her knuckles as Hermione slowly backed away from them, unintentionally backing up into a corner, into one of those stalls.

She was scared, fear running through her. _Protect us,_ her magic hissed at her. _Fight back._ But it was one thing to do magic on a dummy and another entirely to do on a living breathing person. She didn't even know how she could protect herself yet. No wait, she did know. She could use stupefy on them. It would only knock them out and then she could escape. The motions of the spell went through her head. She would only use a little of her power. Not enough to hurt anyone.

She felt a kernel of cool fill her, washing away the fear.

"Ah, Blaise, I didn't know not only were you gay, but that you identified as a woman now," Hermione said, cocky because of her power. It was pounding through her, emboldening her though she shouldn't let it get to her head.

It had been the wrong thing to say. And she was about to pay for it.

"The fuck you say to me, beansprout?" Blaise shrilled, face flushing red and before Hermione could respond to the static gathering between her fingers, his fist slugged her so hard that she hit the floor, head cracking the tiled wall on the way down.

She blacked out.

She must have, because when she came to the bathroom was freshly vacant and blood was sticky where she had hit her head. Anger and magic boiled over in her veins. The pain in her skull faded away as her powers healed her and she pulled herself up. She reached for the door to exit the stall and the door flung off its hinges, ripping and flying off into the wall with a metal groan. The mirrors and lights began to shake, and Hermione was so pissed off she didn't even care.

But soon she would, because her magic was vibrating the air around her, making it go sour. Making it hot like a desert breeze. It aimed to hurt and it lashed out at anyone around her, indiscriminate.

A girl had just walked in to use the restroom, eyes going wide as she saw the damage in it and Hermione with her hair flinging out and around like a leaf in a storm. Before she could say anything, Hermione's magic reacted.

It zapped out of her skin, arching out and hitting the closet person in vicinity which happened to be someone innocent of this whole incident. They fell onto the floor, blood cascading out of their nose as their eyes rolled into the back of their head until only the whites showed. This was terrible!

No!

It had all gone wrong!

Hermione dropped to her knees next to them. What was she to do? Shit.

Who did she even tell?

Her anger dropped to panic and so did the magic whirling around her. It only sparked here and there but the mirrors and lights stopped shaking.

She was freaking out. Shit. Shit.

She fumbled for her phone, deciding she needed to call the police. Or the ambulance. Shaking fingers typed out the number only for the phone to short circuit as her magic got to it.

"Fuck!" she screamed out, and she threw the useless piece of shit against the stone tiles. It broke but she couldn't care less. She had to get help before she became a murderer.

She raced through the halls, rushing into the principal's room with a wild look on her face. "Please, help me," she begged the secretary who had never seen the usually collected Hermione look so scared.

"Hermione. What's wrong-"

"Get the principal! Somebody's hurt badly in the girl's bathroom!"

* * *

Hermione went home that day not knowing what the outcome of the incident would be. She desperately hoped everything would be alright. If not, she was a killer. She squeezed her eyes shut as she laid flat on the bed. No, she couldn't think of it that way. She had to go to her dream world and ask her mentor what would happen.

Would she be mad at Hermione for disregarding her rules? In not drinking the potion? And what about the girl? She surely saw Hermione and her magic. What if the girl told? Than Hermione would have revealed her witch sisters to the world and she had promised to keep them safe. To keep their secrets.

She sucked in her bottom lip, trying to stop the stem of tears from welling out her eyes. She hoped Bellatrix wouldn't be mad. That she would be able to help. To even this all out. Something told her Bellatrix would handle the aftermath. That she already knew what happened without having to be told.

Hermione eventually fell into a worried slumber. And when she woke, it was to Bellatrix's knowing and understanding face. She enveloped the younger girl in a comforting hug, wanting to dispel her anxieties.

"Do not fret, my star," Bellatrix cooed, nails raking through Hermione's curls in all the right ways. She shuddered in relief and something more with each stroke, relaxing into the older witch's bosom, inhaling her scent of lilies and nutmeg. "All is as it should be."

And Hermione believed her words, for now. She stayed like that as Bellatrix hummed to her a lullaby that soothed her soul. That same one from before that resonated with her on a deeper level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The lullaby that Bellatrix sings is based on the Witch's Daughter by Ashley Serena.
> 
> Some more witch themed music: Silva Maleficus by Peter Gundry is good for reading the ritual scene with.


	3. New Horizons

_One year later..._

"You know, that problem's not really hard if you've read the Starlord's texts, page 1,896."

Harry jerked his head up from where he had been studying his astronomy books in vain, trying to explain why certain stars had more pull on different species of plants, people, and animals, and what those effects were. His searches had been, thus far, sorely lacking. And it showed in his perpetually furrowed brow, which only became more furrowed in confusion at the stranger approaching him.

The young brown haired girl walked up to him, casually leaning over his book like it was the norm for them to do this. Ron's eyes followed her motions from where he sat in front of Harry at the wooden table in the library, struggling over his scrolls as well.

"Professors don't really mention the Starlord's texts because they expect you to find it on your own. But the passages are deep in the book and you wouldn't know where to look if you didn't take the time to read all of the book with a fine toothed comb." The girl flipped forward to the correct numbered page and tapped down on the page where the textbook was open to an image of several constellations. "Canus Major is said to influence dogs more generally, thus it's association with it. Sirius is it's most notable star and should it be on it's third rotation which only happens every three thousand years or so, every single dog can go wild and attack those around it until the night passes."

Her finger moved to the next, tapping on it. "Ursa Major. This one unlike it's name, does not influence bears, but the forests of the northern hemisphere and it's rotations can be attributed to heavier snowfalls and harsher winds."

"And this, is Bellatrix. The star found in the constellation of Orion. That which guides the vices of men and women alike." Her tone became a bit more hushed, reverent, at this part. "It's the star that radiates power to make those of hot blood easily turn to violence. Those born under it, will also have immense magical power, though muggles are more often the ones affected in terms of mind going awry, given their...weaker constitution," she finished on, smirking at the last sentence.

The two boys were in awe at the information that spouted from her pink lips so easily.

She arched a brow, waiting for a response. "Oh, my bad. I'm Hermione Granger. Just transferred into Hogwarts this year. Nice to meet you. And you all are?" She stuck out a hand, waiting on introductions.

"Er, I'm Ron," the red haired boy rushed forward to say, shaking out of his stupor like one shakes water out of their ears. "And this is my friend, Harry. Harry Potter."

"Nice to met the both of you," she smiled.

"You don't know who he is?" Ron asked, a bit shocked she hadn't reacted to hearing Harry's name like everyone else did- either with admiration or fear.

"No. Should I?" she inquired, tossing them a lightly puzzled look which made her nicely shaped brows upturn and her pink lips pucker.

"He's famous. Killed the dark lord as a child."

"Ron, there's no need-" Harry said, hissing like a balloon deflating from air. His cheeks colored.

"Sorry. He doesn't like the attention," Ron amended, explaining to Hermione.

"I'm sure he must be tired of it." Hermione pulled out a chair and sat down primly in it, right next to Harry. "I used to be a bit famous in my old school too before I came here."

"Famous for what?" Ron leaned in, forgetting his homework, hungry for yet another famous person to add to his name drop count.

"Well, being smart of course. I was top of everything. But then when I learned I was a witch I dropped out and took homeschooled witching lessons before I came here. I've never been in a magical school before. It's quite nice," she gushed.

"If you're so smart, why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" Harry asked, though he quickly back tracked. "Not to be rude, of course." He was looking at the red and gold colors she sported pointedly and with subtle curiosity.

"Of course," Hermione affirmed, to let him know no harm had been done. "I chose not to be in Ravenclaw. They're all full of boring snobs. Noses forever stuck in their books. I much prefer adventure and not just learning from a book. I find hands on experiences are so much more fun. Don't you agree?"

"I suppose," Harry mumbled while Ron nodded his head.

"I'll let you get back to your work, but should you need help, I'll only be three tables away," she said, sensing this conversation was at an end. She flounced off to where she was working on something with some younger Gryffindors.

Ron's curious gaze lingered on her, and ever so often it would drift back to her table when small peals of laughter came from the table.

* * *

"I never knew Harry was a Quidditch player. And such a good one at it," Hermione commented as she found a spot by Ron. "Why don't you play?"

Ron was distracted by the soaring players over his head and it took him a while to answer. "I dunno. I just..." he shrugged. "Never tried out?" He was confused by his own answer, as if only now realizing that he hadn't tried out and that he could have this whole time. But not sure why he hadn't.

"You should. I don't see why you can't play the sport too and be good at it."

He turned to look at her at this. "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so," she smiled fully, letting her dazzling grin enchant him. "And then both best friends would be on the field."

She stayed with him to watch the rest of the game, he filling her in on what was happening because she was a tad confused as to what was going on entirely.

When it ended she walked with him. "How do you like Hogwarts so far?" he questioned, putting his hands into his pockets, the two of them picking their way carefully through the crowd.

"It's nice. A much more interesting world than being homeschooled that's for sure. I have a chance to have friends. To see new places. Taste some wizarding candy. Those are spectacular I must say. I love the ones that change your voice."

"You've missed out a lot on the wizarding world than. How much do you know?"

"Not a lot. I've tried to catch up with the papers but all they talk about is this Voldy-mort kinda guy and his struggle with Harry. What's that all about?"

"The bugger's got it out for Harry," Ron said, his face turning grim. "There's a prophecy or something about it. I'm not really sure."

"Can you tell me more?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure I should."

"You can. You can trust me. It's not like I'm going to go tell anyone about this. I just need to understand things better."

He didn't look certain but he caved at her pleading smile. "Alright, this is what happened..."

By the end of story, the two of them had caved into laughter over some silly joke or another, slowing their walk as they came up to the entrance of Hogwarts. Ron had taken Hermione to sit by the lake so they could talk and now they were back here, where a livid Harry was waiting.

"Ron, why didn't you wait for me after the game? We were supposed to go to Hogsmeade to get a drink," he frowned, changed out of his sports gear.

Ron flushed red. He looked guilty. "Blimey, I forgot-"

"It was my fault," Hermione placed a hand on Ron's arm, stopping him. "I ended up taking Ron's attentions away. I really needed his help with something and I didn't bother to ask if he had anything else to do after. I hope I haven't made a mess of things too badly between the two of you," she simpered, batting her lashes.

"Er, no. I suppose it's okay," Harry said, his anger relaxing now that it wasn't thrown at Ron.

"I'll let the two of you be on your way. I have much work to catch up on," she threw them a delighted smile before rushing upstairs to her room, a special room only for her, where to her annoyance, she found Ginny sitting on her bed, munching on an apple loudly.

"Why are you still here? It's been a month into the school year. You need to leave." Her friendly and high pitched British accent dropped to her more comfortable American one.

"Why are you getting answers out of Ron instead of me? I've been around both him and the scarred dolt. I know the struggle between him and the Dark Lord," she replied instead.

"You don't know it like Ron does. Ron who has been on the quests to help Harry. On the very front-lines of every encounter. He has seen it with his own eyes."

"Then why not just get the memories out of him using a piensive?" Ginny suggested breezily, taking another huge crunch that made Hermione's eyes twitch.

"I'm afraid his brain of mush wouldn't hold up under the spell. Plus, I was instructed to blend in and to get close to them and nothing more. I don't even need to extract such information out of him," she said, rolling up her sleeves and taking off her robe to put it up on her desk chair.

"But you are anyways because you're curious. _Too_ curious. You know what happens when you are too nosy." Ginny made a snipping noise over her nose, mimicking with her forefinger and middle finger the motions of scissors cutting down.

Hermione rolled her eyes, slumped down in her chair as she loosened her tie with one hand, and hefted up a book in her other. "Shut up and get out of my room."

She threw the book at Ginny's head but the witch was faster and rolled out of the way, dumping the core of the apple on Hermione's bed before leaving the room as requested.

"Slob," the brunette muttered out under her breath, flicked her wrist to levitate the apple into the trash, and turned to her desk so she could do some work.

* * *

By the time the leaves had turned brown and red and orange, Hermione had settled into a routine at Hogwarts. Being at such a huge magical institution was exciting to her and she still couldn't believe her luck to be here, to be among her kind. Ever since she had learned she was a witch, she aspired to come here. And it was all possible thanks to her mentor. And to the people she worked with.

Due to her stellar training and quick uptake on material, retaining it like a sponge that never got too wet to hold liquids inside, she was able to come to Hogwarts, entering right into sixth year, with only having to take a couple of summer remedial classes before the year began.

She found her professors intriguing. Snape lead potions class and he had a very dry way of teaching, robotic almost, with a voice she could sleep to. It was also quite easy to ruffle his feathers, when she raised a point that the potion of sleeping drought could be made using truffle feathers instead of dove tears and the effects would be better if not faster to hit the user.

He had been offended she knew better than him and points had been take off the house cup. Which, apparently was something all students cared immensely about but which she could give a fig less about. However, she was supposed to be blending in with the students and so she kept her sharp retorts from spilling from her mouth. Though she did take pleasure in brewing potions using methods he had not approved in class.

Specific methods, that Hermione had been instructed to use. It began to drive under his skin, until of course, he had asked her to stay behind after class was over.

"So, you're the newest witch of their team," he said, assessing her with unimpressed eyes. "I received a note, but no specifications."

She leaned against the desk, hands flat on it in what she had learned was a power move. Get in other people's personal spaces and they get uncomfortable. She liked making others uncomfortable. It was handy to be able to do so when needed. A trick she had learned from being a victim of bullying for far too long.

"I hope you don't stir up trouble. The last one did and was swiftly kicked out."

"I'm not here to do anything but to learn, professor," she said his title mockingly which made him glare at her. She didn't quite care if he liked her. She only cared for one person's approval in her life now; everyone's elses opinions could go to shit. "I only hope I can count on you to not give me trouble."

His lip quirked up. "I would watch your tongue, you insolent brat. I am still your superior."

She backed off but didn't say anything more to that. Let him have his safety in his lofty titles of false power. She had more important things to do.

She took her bags and left.

Her other professors were hum drum. Same old same old. One was a dwarf, which was funny. She could imagine her mentor using jinxes to trip him up for jokes. She was tempted to do the same but didn't. After all, she was merely a student right now and she felt she deserved a little break to be normal from the great destiny resting on her shoulders.

One that outshined the boy who lived's one, not that anyone knew. But soon they would.

The head of Gryffindor, McGonagall could turn into a cat. That was interesting. Hermione wondered if she could learn to turn into another animal. Probably if she put her mind to it, she could.

The only person she was wary of was Headmaster Dumbledore. The man could not be trusted. Behind his facade of bumbling old man, lay years of knowledge and skill that even Hermione could not surpass with her magic. She needed to be careful with him. Needed him thinking her but an over eager student that desired nothing more than to learn. He must not know who she was working for. Or what she was working on.

And she was walking towards that goal right now, twirling a red leaf between her fingers. Red was such a lovely color. It was why she had coerced the Sorting Hat to put her in the house of red and gold. Of course there were other reasons behind her want to be here, and the hat had refused, telling her she didn't belong in this house at all. But she wouldn't stand to be in another house. It would ruin everything.

"'Mione," and there it was, tumbling from his thin lips, that Merlin awful nickname.

"Ron," she smiled through the indignation of it all. "Harry."

They were off to study.

Hermione was to help them, naturally. As she was the smartest of the three. She had managed to worm her way into their duo, charming them with her quick wit, ability to accept jokes, and to help them with their homework. Apparently, being the boy who lived, didn't give Harry much time to learn. He was often swamped by sports practice, having to worry over a destiny he knew nothing about, and going along with Dumbledore's manipulations.

Ron. Well, Ron just didn't like to study. And he wasn't the brightest in terms of book smarts. Though he did have wizarding street smarts as he liked to call it, whatever that meant.

Hermione found herself coming to like them. It was nice to have friends, even if they abused her knowledge to further their own grades. They cared for her given the way they defended her when others threw the slur mudblood at her, or made fun of her for being too smart. They shared jokes and secrets with her, and came to rely on her as a pillar of support and knowledge.

It was almost ridiculous how easily she befriended them. And after all those years of being friendless, it felt nice to have such relations. It made it easy to forget who she was or what she was doing here. She'd find herself staying up in the Gryffindor common room, laughing with the other students at some stupid story. Or playing wizarding chess with Ron and losing. Or stealing food from the kitchens with Harry. Or even playing pranks on the Slytherins.

The days became a warm comforting cycle of studying, hanging out with friends, and wandering the halls of Hogwarts. It was how her life should have been for many years and she regretted not learning of her witch destiny sooner. And she knew her witch destiny was different, different from the ones at school for when she asked the girls about their dreams, none of them could talk to other witches like she could.

Which could only mean she was special as were the ones she could talk to. It made her ego only bigger. But of course, there was that one dark mark against her happy times. And his name was Draco Malfoy. And he was a bully.

She'd seen bullies before. Dealt with them. Suffered with them.

She wasn't about to go down that road again. Especially not if he was hurting Harry and Ron. Picking on them because he was jealous of Harry's fame. And because now Hermione was included in the duo, he thought he could mess with her too.

Except, unlike her bullies in the past who liked to make her suffer out of the public eye so they could get away with it, Draco liked to make a show of it.

Hermione had been walking down the halls, hurrying to her next class. She barely noticed Draco even walking down the opposite end of the hall with his side kicks Crab and Goyle. Until they began to hoot and holler her name.

"Where are you going mudblood?" Draco called out, coming to block her path. She huffed up a strand of hair, coming to a stop. Did he seriously think she would allow herself to be late to class? Or that she would be scared by him?

Already murmurs were coming down the halls of those students who were eagerly waiting to see what would happen, all almost Slytherin. As normal, no one would stand up to stop this. She would need to take matters into her own hands.

Or, she wouldn't even have to use her own hands. Her magic had a habit of not liking to be constrained to the wand. And she found she didn't mind.

"To class," she answered genially, smiling at him a grin of full teeth. It was her warning grin. He didn't notice.

"I've noticed you've been hanging out with Potty boy and his friend the weasel," he started slowly.

"And?" she popped a brow. "What are you going to do about it?"

He did not like that challenge. He shoved his hands into his pockets, striding closer. Crabe and Goyle pounded their fists into their palms. "We'll show you what kind of privileges come with being his friend."

They had the intention of beating her up and humiliating her in public. And naturally, no professors in sight to do anything about it. Magical teachers were just as useless as the muggle ones. He pulled out his wand but it hung limply in the air when his sidekicks let out grunts of surprise, getting lifted and pulled up by their ankles.

Their robes dropped around their panicking faces as they hung there, suspended at the top of the ceiling which was a good drop. If they fell. Which she was seriously considering. While Draco was distracted, Hermione grabbed his wand while it was still in his hand and filled it with her magic. In bolts of white it zapped through it and into him. With a booming noise he was flung backwards, crashing through some students and taking them down.

She released the hold on the wand, and the ash reminder of it fell to the ground. She stepped over it and towards him, where he was moaning on the floor, clutching his hand which was red from where the magic had entered him. His hair was static and frizzy. There was fear in his eyes. He tried to slide on his back away from her but she stepped on the end of his robe and he was held there. She leaned down, giving him a good hard look.

"If you ever, EVER, try to pull that kind of nonsense with me, you will sorely regret it. Do you understand?"

He nodded his head frantically. He was just a big coward after all, it seemed. Weren't all bullies, in the end? She leaned down a bit further.

"No, I don't think you do," she concluded coldly. She was aware in the background that someone had run off to get the professor. She didn't care. No one was going to ever bully her again. Ever.

"And until you do," here she dropped down, patting him on the knee like she was just telling a joke, like she was telling a joke to a friend, "you're going to need to watch your back." And she left on that promise, Draco shivering on the floor, sniveling, and his two friends still upside down, going red in the face.

She managed to make it to class, only two minutes late. Naturally, a professor came for her, demanding her presence in Dumbledore's office. She rolled her eyes. How annoying. He was undoubtedly going to chew her out. She kept her head lowered, because she needed to act like she was just a scared girl. When she got to the office, the password was pronounced. "Lemon drops."

That was good to keep in mind. She was lead into the office where Dumbledore was already sitting, his blue eyes gleaming behind his half moon spectacles. "Miss Granger, sit down. Candy?" he offered her a wrapped toffee which she declined. They sat in silence, Dumbledore trying to decipher her. She knew he could read minds so she acted demure. Scared. Filled her thoughts with nothing but worries of detention.

"May I ask what happened in the hallway this afternoon?" he inquired gently.

"I was approached by Malfoy and his two horrid friends. They wanted to teach me a lesson they said."

Dumbledore's eyebrows went up. Was he honestly surprised? Did he not know about what was going with his students? For a man professed to be so great and all knowing, he really wasn't on such matters.

"Why was that?"

"Because I was friends with Harry Potter."

"And then what happened?" he pressed.

"I used magic on them to get out of danger."

"Indeed you did. Spells that are not commonly used. Spells that can be dangerous."

They weren't dangerous. They were nothing compared to what Hermione could truly do. But he didn't need to know that.

"I...I only read the spells in a book of some sorts. I can't quite remember which book." She fidgeted with her hands, tried to look pensive.

"And they said you used wandless magic. That's something quite rare," he explained patiently, like she didn't know this already.

"I didn't. I had my wand in my hand. It was just hidden up my sleeve so they must have not seen it." She let her chin wobble. She needed to seem repentant. "Are they- are they hurt badly?"

"They'll be fine. A bit shaken, and Mister Malfoy with some burns, but fine otherwise. Nothing magic can't fix."

"I didn't mean to do it. I was only protecting myself. I was scared of them."

"And you have a right to protect yourself. I just don't want anyone getting hurt. If they bother you again, I want you to tell someone. Do not take matters into your own hands. Especially with spells you find in random books. You don't know the affects of them."

"Yes sir. Of course," she nodded her head, pretending to really think this over.

"You can leave now."

She stood up and left, dropping the sniveling act as soon as she was out the door. She wouldn't worry about using magic on Malfoy again. She had a feeling he wouldn't be coming after her any time soon.

When she got to her room, she found a note there. It was on a black card, golden script detailing a place and time to meet.

Great. Now what was it? She took out a polyjuice potion from her secret stash and pocketed it. She made way off into the basement of Hogwarts and out to the village of Hogsmeade, swallowing a mouthful as she left the dark exit so she would no longer look like a student. Walking through the border around the town, she was finally in a place she could disaparate and did so, ending up in a dingy bar in the back of some little ventured street in London.

There in the back of the shady bar, Hermione saw the person she was supposed to met. They were wearing monk robes, a rope around their neck and the hood pulled low. In front of them was a plate of fries that looked soggy and cold.

Hermione sat down in front of the figure, her borrowed facial features turning into ones of exasperation. "Oh don't tell me you've come to scold me too. I already got enough of that from the old git."

The hooded figure in front of her only leaned in, their tense shoulders becoming more tensed.

"You do not harm Draco, ever again. Do you hear me?" came the whispered threat as a hand clamped around her upper arm, nails biting in. She could not see the hooded person's face under the heavy cloak, but she knew they were angry. But not why.

"He was being a dick to Harry and Ron the whole time, as well as me. And I'm supposed to protect them."

"It doesn't matter if he's an arse to you, or to Harry or Ron. You do not harm him. He is an important member's son and though he does not know the cause, you are not to harm him. Do you understand me?" they shook Hermione's arm roughly.

Her face was grim. "You know how I feel about bullies."

"Then don't think of him as a bully, but as a man who is too important to touch."

"I didn't hurt him. Much," she rolled her eyes and the hooded figure let out a growl.

"I entirely do not like your attitude."

"Too bad, because it's here to stay," her British accent slipped and her American one shone through. "You were the one who told me to be like this. To take because the world would not give."

The hand let go, though Hermione knew she would have red marks there tomorrow. "Just don't do it again, or you'll have far worse things to worry about than me."

The voice was a bit defeated but still held a menace to it. That just because they were conceding, did not mean anything.

They sat in silence a bit before Hermione raised her hand to put it on the back of the figures only for them to draw the hand back quickly. "What are you doing?" they hissed.

"I haven't seen you in forever," Hermione's brows dipped up, mouth pouting. She had missed them dreadfully. Every waking moment that wasn't crammed with school knowledge was filled with longing.

"We're in public. We can't do this. Besides, if you have nothing to report at school, I must take my leave." They rushed to stand up. Hermione's words paused them.

"There is one little thing I haven't sent in the mails. Ginny's hanging around the castle. Did you put her there?"

The hooded figure let out a snort and shook their head. "She's like a stray cat. She comes and goes as she pleases."

"So, she's not there on your orders?"

"No. I think she might like you."

"And that doesn't make you jealous?" Hermione fluttered her lids, teasing.

The figure didn't say anything, and Hermione realized she had pushed too hard. Sullenly she grabbed a cold fry, munching on it. She was in a terrible mood herself suddenly and she didn't want to think on why. Without another word the figure left, sticking her with the tab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Updates for this series will be once a month, on the third day.


	4. A Wand to Bewitch

* * *

_Point your fingers, the blame's on me_   
_(That girl is psycho)_   
_They've turned their backs_   
_(That girl is psycho)_   
_If they wanna see evil_   
_(That girl is psycho)_   
_They haven't seen anything yet_

_-Voodoo, Nyx-_

* * *

_Eight months prior_

They were getting a wand for Hermione today.

"As a reward for finally tapping into your magic, we're going to get you a proper witch's wand." Bellatrix said, gleeful in this fact, red lips wide.

Hermione wasn't as certain, lagging behind Bellatrix as they walked down the cobblestone paths of an unfamiliar area. It was night out and the lamps shone with a light from the fairies trapped inside them. No one else was out on the streets except for them. Bellatrix was dressed in her all black once more, dress swishing around her heeled boots as they clacked against the bricks. On her nose were black shades, despite the fact there was no sun out.

Hermione's hands were buried deep in the pockets of her gray and red striped dress. She felt undeserved of the wand. Felt like she couldn't be trusted with it.

"What's wrong, my star?" Bellatrix asked, sensing Hermione's reluctance even without turning around.

"I...I hurt someone badly, Miss Black. I don't think I should be trusted with a wand."

Her voice was small and defeated. Punishing her own self.

"Nonsense. You made a mistake. All young witches do. That doesn't mean you can't use the wand. With it, you'll be able to channel that magic out with care and control and ease. You need a proper conduit."

When that didn't work, given Hermione's silence, Bellatrix swiveled on her heel and tugged the brunette to her, hugging her. Hermione sunk into the hold right away, inhaling the scent of lilies and nutmeg. It calmed her when nothing else could. "All will be alright. They'll live, my star."

"I could have killed them." Hermione's response was muffled by Bellatrix's clothe.

"Yes, you could have but you didn't. An important distinction. But, tell me, how did it feel to have all that power at your disposal?"

"It felt...it felt heady," Hermione admitted, thinking back to how the power had surged through her making her feel weightless, and untouchable. Her lips had curled up into a wicked smile and she'd let go full force. "But it was wrong." She knew it was wrong but it was hard to force herself to feel truly remorseful for it when something in her body told her not to. It was like a tickle at the back of her throat. And she couldn't quite get rid of it.

"It's not wrong to be excited by magic. We deserve that magic. It's ours. And we need to be proud of it."

"Even when it hurts others?"

"Our magic only wants to protect us. To serve us," Bellatrix said, soothing a hand through Hermione's curls and evoking a shudder of pleasure down Hermione's body that she could not control and did not want ending. "There is no use in thinking on past mistakes. We must move forward." And her mentor left it at that. She was tough and no nonsense. Hermione was more sensitive. But she sensed she wouldn't be babied any further on this.

She followed her mentor to a wand shop. It was dark inside but when Bellatrix went around the back of the small and narrow building, the side door opened up to admit them.

Hermione followed inside into the back room where a lamp emitted a low glow. A short man, almost the height of a dwarf, greeted them. He did not have a pleasant look on his face and he had long tufts of gray hair sticking up on his head in a crescent moon shape.

"I heard you needed a proper wand and I provide," he spoke in unclear English.

"Not for me, you old coot," Bellatrix scowled down at him. "But for my protegee. She is just learning how to become a witch."

"Ah, than I will need her hand. To measure," he said, jumping to it and pulling out a magical tape. Hermione stuck out her hand, a bit uneasy at this midnight secrecy and exchange. Or maybe this was how all wand meetings went. She wouldn't know. She was new to this whole being a witch thing. He measured her hand- the length, the width, even each segment of her fingers.

"A good steady hand. With delicate fingers. Skin is soft and uncalloused which means an easy life for you."

It hadn't been an easy life. "It's not," she burst out randomly, unable to put a lid on her emotions when she had endured so much bullying for so long.

He looked up at her with an odd look. "I know dear. I meant physically, you haven't done much labor besides wrists cramping up with too much writing and fingers cutting on pages of book after book."

"Oh." This man could tell so much from her hand. It was amazing. And unnerving.

"I know just the wand," he said to Bellatrix before moving into a back room to get it. He came out with a slender wooden thing. "Vine, 11 inches. It is a gentle and easy wand-"

"She needs a powerful wand. Not a simpleton's wand," Bellatrix cut in.

"But the vine wand is a good one for beginners. It will treat her well and-"

"She doesn't need to be coddled. She's nearly a grown woman. Get her something more befitting of her status."

"Right away," he simpering, leaving and coming back with a wand made of dark wood. It wasn't straight and thin like the other one but slightly bent at the tip, with a gnarled knob in the middle. "This is a walnut and dragon string wand," he said and offered it up for Hermione to take. She was wary. Could she hurt someone with it? But when her fingers touched down on dark wood, nothing happened. The wood did tingle under her hand, like it was somehow alive but that was it.

"Well, give it a wave around."

Hermione did as asked by her mentor and saw sparks erupt from the wand tip. She jolted back in shock but Bellatrix's two strong hands pushed against her shoulder blades to prevent her from going any further.

"It's a bit stubborn but we'll break it in," Bellatrix deduced and then pulled out of her pocket a small bag of what must be coins. She tossed it to the man and then steered Hermione by the elbow out of the shop. Hermione didn't know what to do with her new wand or where to put it.

"It's not a loaded gun. It won't go off," Bellatrix said and Hermione put the wand in her back pocket still feeling unsure with it.

"Now what?"

"Now we're going to train with it. Practice some wrist and hand motions and some incantations." They came to the fireplace they had used to come here and throwing some green powder into the blazing hearth in the middle of the inn, Bellatrix called out the name of the house they would be returning to. Hermione was still amazed by how this worked, but no one seemed shocked to see them exiting and leaving through fire.

"They're our kind. Magical folk. Don't worry," Bellatrix explained, indicating for Hermione to go first.

The flames only tickled a bit as she walked through and found herself on the other of the fireplace, in her mentor's house. Bellatrix stepped through after her and the fire turned normal. They went into a room that was mainly wooden lamented floors and nothing else but heavy oak walls and doors. Bellatrix lifted up her own wand. It too was gnarled and knobby, even more crooked than Hermione's. It was a wonder she was even able to use it.

"Now, follow my hand motions," she said and Hermione eagerly did as asked. If she could learn to control her magic through a wand, she would never have to accidentally hurt anyone else, ever again.

* * *

The wand returned with her to the real world. But, she could not use it, for Bellatrix still insisted on Hermione taking the restraining drops and Hermione was inclined to follow the instructions since last time something so terrible had happened and she had no intention of making it happen once more even as her magic writhed and hissed at her to let it free. She was eager to get her powers under control and she really wished to be a good witch. To understand her destiny more.

Her mentor had not spoken much about it, because she claimed not to know much herself and that with time and practice more truths would be revealed to them both. The best thing they could do know was to train and train and train until Hermione's full potential could be realized.

"How long does a witch need to be trained for?" she asked one day as they were practicing simple jinxes.

"It depends on the witch. I think with the speed you are devouring everything, you should be done within a year or two."

"That quickly?" Hermione was a bit surprised and pleased by her mentor's praise.

"You're doing very well with everything I have taught you so far. However, before you can finish being a witch, you must do a feat of greatness to prove your worth."

"Like what?"

"Something personal to you. Or something not personal to you. Frankly, I think you should do something with the school you attend. Those humans there are quite horrid. Something should be done about them."

Flashes of blood. Crackling magic zooming through the air. Hermione's stomach sank while her heart pounded in excitement. "You want me to h-hurt them?" she stuttered out.

"Nobody said anything like that," Bellatrix tipped her head coyly, watching as Hermione moved her hands in up and down motions and then side to side and then in odd formations, as she practiced different jinxes back to back. Her casting speeds were still slow, but nothing that training couldn't help with. Bellatrix approached her to steady her wrist. She could feel Hermione's pulse fluttering under her tight grip and the girl's cheeks took on a pinkish hue as she slid behind her, breasts leaning on the thin girl's blades.

She rested her chin on her shoulder, humming in content as Hermione allowed her arm to be moved correctly. "You always get the Crus Gelata jinx wrong. It's a Z motion followed by a slash at 90 degrees and not 95 degrees. If you can't tell such subtle differences in degrees apart, than how will you learn the more delicate spells?"

"I can learn it," Hermione said with a shaky inhale trying to ignore the sensation of Bellatrix touching her. It was hard to do so when each touch brought sparks careening down between her legs, making the blood pool there. Her lungs expanded and Bellatrix could feel her moving against her.

"Good," Bellatrix said and then stepped away, watching with scrutiny as Hermione tried it over and over again until she finally got it on her tenth try. "I want you to practice this spell for homework until you can do it with your eyes closed. But, back to your final task, you don't have to hurt anyone. You can simply make them revere you."

"There is a potion for that?"

Bellatrix laughed at that. "My star, there are no potions to garner respect. There are potions for great many things but unfortunately that is one thing that cannot be forced by a potion. Even forcing luck is dangerous and can only be done twice in one's life with a brewed potion of luck. However, there are other means of making your person be more respected."

"Such as?"

Bellatrix conjured up a chair from nothing with a quick slash of her wand before sitting down in it backwards, legs spread. She was wearing black leather pants and a ruffle top shirt in black so that she could move more easily while training Hermione. However, she had said a true witch would be able to move in any clothing well enough to defend herself.

They were going to get to spells that would be used for fighting and for defense soon and it both excited and terrified Hermione. She didn't want to truly hurt anyone. Or maybe she did? Her magic thrummed at the thought of it. Of being used to do something more interesting than mundane everything things.

But Bellatrix had said every witch needed to start from the basics. From house hold spells to more bombastic ones.

"Making them respect you with awe, or reverences, or fear. Really, there is no shortage of ways to accomplish that. But I will not tell you how to go about completing this. This is your final task and you must find a way to make the school better. To make them respect you."

The task seemed impossible. How could she make others like her? They never had. The whole school hated her, except for the teachers.

"How did you do it?" Hermione asked, wanting to know more about her mentor and her past. There were so many blanks about the older woman's life. In fact, her whole personae was a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on. To have the story told.

Her mentor cocked her head to the side, her eyes swallowed up by darkness, gazing at Hermione in contemplation on how much she should share. "Let's say, I used fear. People are afraid of that which they do not know. And once they are scared enough, you can get them to do anything for you as long as they think doing so will make them safe from harm." She rocked back and forth in the chair. "Additionally it was the most challenging path to take."

"How so?"

"Because fear and hate are very close to each other. But getting to fear and love is much, much harder."

* * *

Hermione was so wrapped up in her lessons that she barely paid much attention to what was happening in the real world. She knew she was living a fantasy life, but in a way now it was her real life and the life she had in school felt very fake.

The adults in her life began to notice. Unfortunately.

"Hermione, you're so withdrawn," her mother commented one evening in which both of her parents were home early with no work. Hermione scrapped her fork on the peas she had been about to scoop up. Her chewing on tough stringy meat stopped. The meat was so hard and overcooked. When Bellatrix offered her food in the dreams after their sessions were done, it was always with meat that was soft and bloody, just melting in her mouth. She had gotten used to the raw taste of it, and this cooked meat felt unnatural to her, as did the gobs of mashed potatoes and peas. It all felt...so boring.

Not how it was in her dreams, where she would taste all manner of exotic food. Bellatrix would have her servants prepare it for them, though Hermione never saw the servants in question. And they would feast upon odd smelling but delicious fruits as well as even sample dragon wing soup, or chimera sandwiches. Though repulsive at first, Hermione had gotten used to them and liked the taste. It reminded her how special she was now. Special in that only she could try this and her human parents could not.

"I just have a lot of work," she answered at last, as she realized her parents were looking at her, waiting for an answer.

"Are you getting enough sleep?" her dad asked. "You have dark circles under your eyes."

"I am. I'm just overworked," she mumbled, stabbing down on her peas. One of them split open, revealing a rotting center. How odd. It had looked so normal on the outside that it hadn't been caught and thrown out.

"It's not those terrible kids bothering you, is it?" her mother pressed and Hermione actually was a bit shocked here when she nodded her head no.

"They haven't bothered me in a while," she said, just now realizing this. She had been too wrapped up in her dream world and her studies of magical text to even bother thinking about her bullies for some time. And she wondered why they hadn't picked on her in a while. Were they bored? Scared of her? But no, she hadn't done anything for them to fear her yet.

Huh. How odd. It felt so odd to not have to worry about them now when she had had to live with the crushing weight of them each day. It was like a lead cloud that rested upon her shoulders and only got heavier and heavier each time something bad happened.

Now it had popped and she felt light. She smiled to herself and then continued eating her boring meal.

* * *

At school the next day, she was accosted by one of her teachers surprisingly. He asked her to stay behind in class and when she did, he showed her the score of her recent test. It was a 90.

"Hermione, I am worried," he said. A 90 for her was a low grade, probably the lowest she had gotten in a while. "Are you okay? You haven't been paying attention in class, you barely volunteer answers, and have lower grades on your work. I know this can't be about the bullying, since you did stellar even with them bothering you." In a lower voice, he asked, "is something happening at home that's affecting your work?" He blinked at her, waiting for a response. He was not expecting the burst of laughter that left her lips.

She couldn't see what he was worried about. She had grander things to worry about than some stupid human test. She was a witch after all, one of the best and destined to be even greater, as Bellatrix told her on repeat.

"Why do you call me star?" Hermione had pondered one evening as she and Bellatrix poured over potions once more. The training was split up in several groups. Two hours for potion making. Two for the history of witches and wizards. Two for wand work and two for anything else they might need to cover.

"Because you are my star. My star pupil. And you will be the brightest witch of her age. Of that I am certain."

Hermione was used to hearing praise from her teachers, but it didn't matter like it mattered to hear it from Bellatrix's mouth. Because the older witch was already so accomplished and skilled and Hermione wanted to be like her.

"Will I be like you?" she asked as she felt more confidence in herself. And in her skills.

"No. You will be even better than me, my star," Bellatrix said softly, stroking a finger down Hermione's cheek, making the girl's face turn a slight shade of pink.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" her teacher in the present asked in consternation at her response.

"I'm fine. Honestly better than I have been in a while," she replied with and he did not look convinced at all. But she did not wait longer to talk to him. She hurried off to her lunch break. She didn't have to look far for the source of her bullies distraction towards her.

It was a new girl. One that Hermione hadn't seen before. She had to have just moved here. She was sniffling and picking up her books from the floor. She looked shoved around, a bruise around her eye and blood dried on her nose, mixing in with the salty tears streaming down her face. Her hair which had been done up in two plaited braids down the side were a mess, one looking like it had been used to yank on her head and twist it. Her once clean clothes were soiled with marks, one perfect shoe imprint on her stomach where she had no doubt been stepped on purposefully.

And her books had pages ripped out of them and were dirty and wet.

Hermione felt anger surge up in her veins. She was used to the bullies picking on her. It was practically normal for them to do so. But she wouldn't allow this. Not now. Not when she had power. Power to do something.

She helped the girl up, giving her a tissue.

"You don't need to do this," the girl sniffed.

"I do," Hermione insisted as other students passed them by, sneering and jeering.

"Look, it's loser one helping loser two."

"They deserve each other. I bet they both like fucking dogs too," spat a boy. The red haired girl flinched at this abuse but Hermione could barely bother to listen to it. "Let's go to the bathroom to fix you up. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she said, extending her hand and helping the new girl up to her feet.

They went to the bathroom, the girl shaking the whole time. She looked a mess which Hermione no doubt had probably seemed like at so many points in her life too. But no longer. She wasn't going to let these bullies be an issue. She was going to protect this girl. She had promised she would use her powers to defend the weak from the strong.

"My name is Ginny," the girl said as she blew her nose on some tissues Hermione had given her. "I'm new here. I just moved here a week ago from England."

"Not a great first week then, I gather."

Ginny nodded her head tearfully. "Horrid. They keep making fun of my accent and of my hair color, calling me a tampon and stuff."

"It's going to be okay. I'll help you out. They just need a bit of talking to," Hermione said, putting her hand on Ginny's shoulder. This was Hermione's chance to work on making this school better. To ace her final test and impress her mentor. And she wanted to impress her so badly. Bellatrix may call Hermione 'my star' but to her, the dark haired woman was Hermione's 'star' because her name was literally a star constellation and also because she was so brilliant and bright, even when dressed in black all the time. She took Hermione's breath away at too many moments.

Like when she was talking, her voice so captivating and magical to listen to. Or when she smiled. God, it had only happened once so far, but when she did, it made Hermione's whole heart melt and want to do anything to make Bellatrix smile like that for her. But the older witch had only done it when petting one of her familiars, a cat named Invisus, which meant unseen for truly he blended in with the whole surrounding of the house, even with Bellatrix. His fur was so dark and black and even were his eyes. Hermione could barely pick him out among the day light.

And then, when Bellatrix was twirling her wand around and invoking magic spells, showing off her combat skills on some participants she had acquired for this, she was in her purest form. A wild grin on her face, maniac energy on her face, and her body so lithe and supple like a panther going in for the kill.

She barely broke a sweat and Hermione wanted to be like her. Wanted to make her proud of her. But she still had a long ways to go.

"I don't think bullies can be reasoned with," Ginny sniffed.

Hermione flashed her a smile. "Oh, you'd be surprised," she said calmly and confidently. The only question about it would be should she use potions or her wand? Just in case she'd stop taking the restraining potion. She had taken it over three months time now- time had really flown with all the fun she had learning how to be a witch- and she figured it was time to stop taking it. She could control her magic now.

* * *

Naturally, things did not go to plan. Only because there had been a weak point in the plan and it had been Ginny. When Hermione came to school the next day, she found the trio of bullies, holding a hurt Ginny in their hands, and waiting for Hermione on the stoop. The few students that were around scurried away, not wanting to be a part of this.

"Well, well, we heard you were going to do something to us," Blaise said nastily and Hermione's eyes cut to Ginny who was whimpering and sniffing dreadfully.

"I'm sorry," she admitted. "They beat it out of me."

Hermione nodded her head. "It's okay, Ginny," Hermione said. She had a feeling this would happen. So she was prepared. Her wand was warm pressed against her forearm up in her sleeve. She didn't waste a second on talking more to her bullies. She made a hand motion, allowing a trickle of magic to come forth as she uttered under her breath the incantation for the slug jinx on Pansy.

They looked at her like she was crazy for doing this, but a second later Pansy's face had turned green and she burped loudly, a slug slipping forth from her fat lips.

This was a temporary jinx that would go away after an hour. But it was definitely not a pleasant one.

"Pansy, ew, what the fuck?" Daphne shrieked, lifting up her leg when the slug landed next to it. But Pansy could not speak, burping up another slug and another in quick succession.

"Oh fuck, what's happening?" Blaise roared out. "We've got to take her to the principal!" He let go of Ginny, pushing her roughly to the ground as he let Pansy lean on his shoulder. Hurriedly he hobbled over with her to the school, Daphne following less enthusiastically behind them, careful not to step on the trail of snails that Pansy was leaving. Hermione kept her face carefully neutral as she watched them walk off, while Ginny's face was one of shock.

Ginny looked wide eyed at Hermione who was struggling hard not to grin widely. She shouldn't feel good about this but she did.

"What happened? Was she- was she throwing up slugs?"

"She should be careful what she eats next time," Hermione shrugged, eyes callous. "Lucky break for us." And then she was grabbing Ginny by the arm and tugging her away.

* * *

"Report," was the snapped command as soon as the younger witch strode in. "How is she progressing?"

"Slowly. Very slowly." She sat down in the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Back straight. Eyes challenging.

The older woman snorted. "You would think with all that magic inside her, she'd be corrupted more easily. After all, power corrupts. No matter how good a witch wants to be, she can only be good if she possess little of her wiccan abilities. Have more than that and evil naturally takes root."

"Magic corrupts and will corrupt. We just need to push more. She already feels strongly about protecting me. She thinks I am a damsel in distress."

"And you must keep it that way." She took a sip of her scalding hot tea. "Navigate the world of human teens and make it happen that she is pushed and pushed to the edge. But make it natural."

"I'll need more healing potions if I am to go as deep as you claim to want me to."

"They're already waiting for you for your way out."

"Good." Standing up, smoothing out her skirt, crooked grin on her face. "When she cracks it will be so sweet."

"The sweeter the fruit, the better to get past it's bitter shell. But, crack it too late and all the mush on the inside will be rot. Crack it too early and it won't be ready," she answered as she bit down on the Blood orange on her plate that was next to her tea.

"Hmm." And then the other woman left, closing the door behind her on a woman wearing black shades in a room already obscured in darkness that hid most of her features and visage.

* * *

As Hermione sat at her desk, moving aside a stack of her newly assigned reading from Bellatrix, a small book slid out from the massive pages. It looked like a notebook and the cover was brown leather, the inside filled with scribbles of words and phrases.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, wondering what this could be. It looked like it had been left accidentally. Should she return it?

But her curiosity for more wiccan knowledge made her not want to. Not right away. She flipped through the yellowed pages. These looked like spells. But spells for what? There was no description for them. Not much except for one or two sentences saying to use this on an enemy, or on stubborn pots, or on animals that were vicious.

One way to test it out flooded into her head. She could use it on an animal. So, gathering her wand, and her book, she left to visit the small woods that could be found in the park. She walked there, trying to enjoy the last dredges of sunlight as winter slowly began to pull it's claim on this land.

The park was mainly empty and she went into the bushes and trees, looking for some of animal to try this spell on.

What she found was a small rat, scourging for food. Carefully, so as not to disturb it, she cast the spell quietly and quickly. The spell that was meant for enemies. She instantly regretted it, mouth dropping open in horror.

It's guts were lying out, fur stripped. It looked like had been mauled by some monster. Hermione turned around, thinking she might be sick with this. What kind of a spell was this? It had been indicated to be used on an enemy. Who would do this to someone they hated?

But she found her stomach did not roll, nor did anything come up her mouth. She was...calm in the face of it. Odd. She felt like she would have had a bigger reaction to it all.

Still, she didn't want to look at the sad state of the creature. So she, without looking, picked up some leaves and placed them on it.

Maybe she should return that book. Whenever she had her own ideas involving magic- like not taking the potion before she got her wand- bad things happened.

Yes, she didn't want to keep this book around any longer.

Yet somehow, as the week passed on by, she found herself unable to give it back to Bellatrix.


	5. Deeper and Deeper Down

* * *

_I am having these dreams_   
_So dark and full of sins_   
_Let me tell you about my dreams_   
_Where I don't have wings_   
_I'm a nocturnal creature_   
_I'm so thirsty for a bite_   
_It's witching hour_

_-Blackbriar, Witching Hour-_

* * *

_6 months prior_

"I'm going away on very important business, my star," Bellatrix's note said when Hermione walked into her room that evening. "I would have liked to tell you in person but I didn't have the time. It was quite urgent so I had to leave right away. Lessons are postponed until I come back. When that will be, I do not know."

Hermione flipped the card between her fingers, unhappiness filling her body. She had grown used to these nightly lessons of hers with Bellatrix. What would she do now? What would she dream of? She was not looking forward to this absence of her mentor. When would Bellatrix even be back?

She slumped down in her chair, sighing as she glanced over the text books Bellatrix had somehow magically sent her. Hermione still didn't know how these objects got here in the corporal realm and she had never bothered to ask only because it seemed insignificant compared to the grand scheme of things. At least she would have these books to keep her mind occupied until the next lesson.

But if Hermione had been fearing that she would have lackluster dreams or empty nothingness to accompany her into the void of sleep- the thought of not having Bellatrix in her dreams, of being alone in them, was utterly frightening and she didn't know if she could ever fall asleep again like normal people did- she was wrong.

Or had no need to be worried.

She had dreams. Dreams so filthy and realistic that she woke up sweating, panting and wet between her thighs, sucking her bottom lip in so she could get a taste of where her dream self had been kissed by vivid and passionate red lips.

She felt so ashamed by those dreams. So bewildered as to why she was having them. Or no, she knew why. Anyone could see how beautiful and stunning the dark haired witch was. She was a marvel in looks, skills, and intellect. What about her was there not to like?

And her voice.

Merlin.

Hermione could never get enough of her voice. It had all the right notes. She could lose herself and find herself in it in circles. And in Hermione's dreams, that voice could simply push her to orgasm.

She was no stranger to the carnal needs of a body, but her body was insatiable after those dreams. She would wish they were real if only so her body's aching could cease. If only so she could be relieved of this wild hunger and desperation with which she kissed those lips each night.

The dreams frightened her a bit at first, because of how intense they were. Bellatrix's lips were so soft and her body hard but pliant in all the right places. And she would take and take from Hermione, bending her, spreading her, thrusting into her with skilled fingers that were relentless in their quest to make Hermione cum. And she did cum. In her sleep. In her dreams. In the day world when she jilled off to the fresh memories of what she had imagined.

Very rarely was she allowed to touch or pleasure Bellatrix back. Only her mentor was allowed to touch her, to meld her into any position she wanted. She sent scores of marks down Hermione's delicate skin. Bit her hard enough to leave marks, gripped to leave bruises in purples and greens. Sometimes she went hard and blood would seep from crescent marks, from deep indents. Not that Hermione minded. She liked it. The pain and the pleasure, something she didn't know she needed or craved.

She had thought she wanted a gentle lover. Even a male lover. But it seemed she didn't know herself too well. And that Bellatrix was not only introducing her to a world of magic but to also a world of forbidden desires.

For after Hermione had spent herself, got rid of the arousal, she felt dirty. Like she had disrespected her mentor. She knew she had felt something romantic for the woman but had thought it was merely because she admired her so much and wanted to get closer to her.

It was concerning feeling this way, because how could she ever look the woman in her eyes again after thinking such dirty things? She was a mess. Now, she was dreading the time when her dreams with her mentor would begin again because of all this.

And yet.

And yet, a small part of her. The small part that was growing bigger, told her this was normal. The way things should be. That she shouldn't be ashamed of liking women. Of pleasuring herself to them. She just would have to be careful to never think about this in the other woman's presence especially because she could read minds if she wanted to.

* * *

While Hermione longed for her mentor's appearance once more, a longing that settled in her body and made her feel heavy and her bones weary, she got closer to Ginny. Ginny who was bullied as badly as Hermione had once been. Not that Hermione wasn't still bullied. They pushed her and shoved her around and left nasty surprises in her locker.

But she wasn't weak now. She wouldn't let these insults stand. So when no one was looking, she went and got revenge by pranking them. And it was glorious, for those three idiots had no idea on what was going on.

Pansy found dog shit in her book bag when she went to take out a book for class. Blaise found his hair green and his teeth the size of a beaver's and Daphne was suddenly farting every two minutes. They were all spells that would wear off in a while but they made Hermione crack a grin and hold back her laughter so much she felt she would burst a blood vessel, as she watched them rage and accuse any students standing around them at the time it happened.

Some of these things weren't explained easily and they were so confused and distraught by all this. Their tiny brains could not comprehend.

Ginny too shared in the bullies misery. "Are you doing this?" she asked, one bright eye focused on Hermione because her other one had been bandaged up after she had gotten punched so hard in it, her eye socket bone had shattered and she had needed surgery for it.

Hermione's hands had shook when she learned about it, and if that day she had pranked the three bullies to trip and fall down the stairs than so be it.

Hermione gave a coy yet innocent smile. "I don't know what you mean."

Ginny didn't pursue the topic more. The two of them had become fast friends, sticking together whenever they could. Hermione had learned a lot about the red haired girl and found that she was a native born Brit but had moved here when her dad needed new work. She was into sports, and the color red, plus she loved to eat crazy amounts of food especially with cinnamon on it.

And most of all, she was kind.

Their friendship grew quickly, born out of the necessity of needing each other emotionally to get through the torment of their early teenage years. They did homework together, ate lunch together, and talked on many topics, never finding themselves shy of conversation. And Ginny was happy. When she was with Hermione the smile on her face was never ending and it made Hermione feel warm to know she could make someone feel happy like this.

The brunette felt like she mattered. Like she made a difference, even if it was in one person's life for now. Soon, soon she would be helping more.

Any grief Ginny received from being bullied was wiped away by Hermione simply being next to her and caring for her. But one night her anguish had blown up full force.

They had both shared a bottle of wine between them and Hermione had no tolerance for it. Neither did Ginny, given the red nose and half lidded eyes. "Ya know," she slurred, slumping onto the bed. "Sometimes I wish I could just, -hic- snap my fingers and get rid of all the bad people in the world."

Hermione could feel a rock sit in her stomach. That was exactly what she wanted. She didn't talk; she let Ginny finish.

The red head had her hands up in the air, looking at the freckled backs of them as she spoke. "I would get rid of them to protect the good people in this world. Those who were innocent. No one deserves pain, but there are -hic- assholes out there who make pain for those who don't deserve it."

"And you would kill all those bad people?" Hermione asked from where she lay on the floor, the itchy and stiff carpet fibers biting into her back. She really needed a better carpet. She wondered if she could magic one up.

Ginny peeked her head to look down at Hermione. "I would. If it meant others didn't have to go through this shit like you and me did. Then I would do it for the greater good."

"But isn't it bad then? To kill is bad."

"Not if you do if for good reason. Self defense it's okay. Just like," Ginny waved a hand in the air, unable to voice what she meant. "You know what I mean. Sometimes it's okay to do bad things as long as there are good results."

Hermione drunkenly contemplated this, her mind whirling. There was no question about it. She would love to pay back Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne for all they had done to her. Pranks weren't enough. Sure, they were funny, but they didn't actually hurt them.

She wanted them to be afraid of her.

They didn't even know she was the one doing the pranks. Sure it had been funny they hadn't known, like a private joke. But it had lost the spark. What good was doing all that if the bullies only went back to bullying more? And they had been tame recently. That was never good. Usually in the past it meant they were planning something. Something truly dreadful. She hated to think what it was.

She needed them to be stopped. She needed them to fear her and respect her.

Suddenly what Bellatrix had said about respect being a true determination of Hermione's success at reforming the school came back up to her mind. She couldn't just prank them and expect to make real change like this. She had to actually put her foot forward and make an effort. She needed a battle plan.

A smile tugged up one end of her mouth as she fantasized of a revenge that would leave them pissing in their shoes.

"I suppose," she answered softly to Ginny's question but her eyes were looking past her peering head, up to the bright light of the ceiling bulb as her mind wandered on what she would do.

* * *

"Are you real?" Hermione blurted out of the blue, startling Bellatrix so that she let out a wild laugh and held her belly as she let it out.

"Am I real? Star, did you only really think to ask me that now?" her all consuming eyes turned to Hermione, holding her still. The young girl began to feel foolish of her inquiry.

"It's just that-these are all dreams. I know that they must somewhat be true because the books and potions and the wand I have in them are real and back with me in my waking world. But everything else-you, the house, the town we visit and the lands around it- I have not seen. How are you even communicating with me right now?"

"I see my long absence has made your heart fonder," she cooed, not in a rude manner but a lightly teasing one. "Here." She took Hermione's hand and placed it over her breast, right where her heart was. "Do you not feel how my heart beats and the blood thrums under it? How my chest heaves with my inhales and exhales?"

Hermione nodded her head, mouth dry.

She could feel it alright; the steady and strong pounding of her mentor's heart. But she could also feel the warmth and softness of her breast through the material of her silken shirt with a swallow tail at the top. It was distracting. Making it hard for her to focus on what Bellatrix was saying next.

"I am real. Just because I do not come back with you to the waking world does not mean I cannot."

"Why don't you," Hermione blurts out more words, cursing her young heart and girlish crush and the admiration she is having on her mentor. Oh, she knows it's a crush now. Not when her dreams had been so filthy and hungry, wanting more of Bellatrix. Needing more of her.

Perhaps it's not a crush than. Crushes are cute, sweet, and innocent; reminiscent of childhood. Hermione's dreams were full of lust and blood and brimming power. Of carnal desire that made her insides churn with need. A need to get impossibly close and even then it wouldn't be enough.

So, an obsession then.

"Because it is not yet time. You need to train more. Learn more. And when you are done, I will take you from your wretched surroundings."

"Why not now? My parents wouldn't even mind me leaving. I could just come up with a lie. Say I got a scholarship to a good school-"

"A great witch is not only defined by her magic potency but by her circumstances. Those born to squalor, fighting against the tides, rise high. Those who have it easy, are easy to defeat," she cupped Hermione's chin as she said this before leaning in and kissing her on her forehead. "Don't forget that, my star," she murmured against the skin there, sending shivers down Hermione's spine. She closed her eyes briefly.

Damn. Her feelings had grown stronger so quickly that it left her dizzy sometimes. Feeling unable to stop spinning in this still world. She looked forward to her lessons at the same time she dreaded them.

And she knew she had to keep her mind shut from her mentor. Not to think of the dreams, otherwise that could make things a lot more awkward. And she didn't want that right now. She just wanted to get back to her training's. It had been three weeks since she'd been to one and her evenings had felt so empty, her mornings so bleak, without it.

But now she was electric with excitement of having them back. Of having Bellatrix back.

The woman was currently eating up Hermione's expressions. "You are so adorable. Like a puppy. Are you truly that happy to see me?" she asked, softly.

Hermione nodded her head reluctantly to share this information. "I'm-I'm just happy to progress. And to learn from you."

Bellatrix smiled approvingly at this.

"During lunch, you might have a surprise. Wait on the steps in front of your school. Do keep an open mind about it."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask questions but Bellatrix cut in. "And don't ask questions. Just do as your told, so that you might be back for class in time. I don't want your other studies to slack just because." She gave a knowing grin.

"A 90 isn't bad," Hermione mumbled as she crossed her arms and then she was awake in her bed, sitting up with a huff.

She kicked her covers off and got ready for school.

All day long she was antsy with the anticipation of what surprise would be awaiting her during lunch. A new wand? New books? Bellatrix showing up to see her?

That idea made irrepressible joy fill her but she tempted down on it because she knew that wasn't the cause; Bellatrix had said as much.

So, when lunch finally arrives, she shots up from her chair and rushes out of the room, going outside, wondering what surprise will be for her there. She waits on the steps and nearly screams out loud when something pops into existence next to her. She bolts up from where she had been sitting as the creature bows in front of her, it's droopy ears flopping.

"Gibbsy is here to serve miss Hermione. To take her to the practice site," he intoned in a tinny voice. It was grating on the ears. He got up from his bow, affording Hermione a better look at his ugly countenance. Long nose, short stature, and big ears. She had seen his kind somewhere before. He was a house elf. Was he Bellatrix's?

She gave a nervous look around. Had anyone else seen him? He noticed her distress.

"Don't worry Miss. No one can see Gibbsy if Gibbsy does not want," he assured and then held out his hand. "Bellatrix has told Gibbsy to take the young miss to the training. Hold on."

A training? Would she use her new found witch abilities there?

She was reluctant to take his hand but did so, because if Bellatrix had sent him, then it meant he could be trusted. As soon as she took it, the world blurred around her and with a gasp she let go just as the surroundings came into focus again. She found herself somewhere else entirely.

"Where am I?"

"Gibbsy used magic to teleport us to the training ground."

"This is just another town," Hermione said, recognizing this place as a town nearby to the town where she lived. She was currently in an alleyway with Gibbsy and it was a quiet day.

"Yes. Mistress wants you to train here."

"Train? To do what?"

"She wants you to use your magic and cast harmless jinxes on passerbys without getting caught. All this to prove you can do magic."

"But I can do magic," Hermione insisted, confused by this. Bellatrix had seen her do it, so why demand it?

"Yes, but sometimes magic must be cast on others. And she wants to test if you can cast it."

Well, that wouldn't be too hard. Hermione had been casting pranks all the time on the three idiot bullies. This would just be a walk in the park for her. She let the wand slide out from where she hid it up her long sleeves. She never knew when she might need it. Luckily, Bellatrix had been requesting Hermione take lower doses of the restraining potion because the young witch was in more control of her magic and wouldn't need the potions aid. This lower dosage allowed Hermione to do minor spells easily but she would not be able to do big ones.

She twirled the wand between her fingers, feeling it's unyielding firmness.

"How long do I have to do this for?" she asked, determined to do well.

"Just for a little bit. Gibbsy will prepare some lunch for Miss Hermione in the meantime." And he disappeared with a poof, leaving the young witch alone in the alleyway.

* * *

Hermione eventually settled on some jelly legs jinks on unsuspecting people carrying groceries. There cries of surprise as they suddenly couldn't support themselves and thus dropped their bags as a result, was hilarious and Hermione had to stifle her laughter at seeing them becoming so bewildered.

She wandered around the park, or the shops and when half an hour had passed, Gibbsy popped up and took her away to the park where he had a lavish picnic spread out. It was a bit chilly to be eating outdoors but when she sat on the blanket she found it had magically warmed, so that she was enveloped in a bubble of warm air as she ate the delicious food he set out for her, all which was on gold plates.

She didn't even get to finish all of it, so full she became.

"Mistress wants Miss Hermione to do this every Thursday during lunch time with Gibbsy."

That was interesting. Seemed Bellatrix now that she had trained Hermione, wanted to have her work the spells outside of their sessions and with real time experience. Hermione didn't mind. After all, she was here to become the best witch she could be. And, Gibbsy did make one hell of a lunch.

She just had to make sure she didn't get caught by the townsfolk.

* * *

When Hermione walks into her house that evening she is shocked to find both her parents sitting on the couch, looking expectantly at her. "Uh, is everything okay?" she asks, shutting the front door behind her and tapping snow off of her shoes.

"No. It's not. We need to talk about your grades," her dad says and indicates for the chair in front of the couch for Hermione to sit in. Her stomach churns in nerves and she takes the seat. Folds her hands across her lap, awaits their words with a brave face.

"Hermione, we've noticed your grades have been going down," her mother produces a report card for the fall semester. She opens it and shows it to Hermione, who notices there's a couple A's there, and one B plus.

"These are the lowest grades you've had in...in forever. Is everything alright? Is something bothering you?" her dad pressed, leaning in towards her as if this might give him the answers he wanted.

She almost wants to laugh out loud. Now, they notice something wrong? But when she had been bullied they hadn't been able to see the misery on her face? The scars on her forearm under her long sleeve itch and she is tempted to scratch them until they bleed.

"I'm fine," she murmurs and knows they aren't convinced.

"Is it because you haven't been sleeping well? You look tired all the time Hermione. You barely talk to us and you barely eat at home," her mother adds on.

All false. She sleeps well at night, knowing that shutting her eyes brings her closer to Bellatrix. She doesn't talk to anyone who gets in the way of her nightly teachings. And she always eats herself full at Bellatrix's mansion; she has no need for her mothers sub-par cooking.

Hermione shakes her head. "I'm fine. I promise. Better than ever, actually." She smiles and gets up, deciding this is the end of the conversation. She has no more to contribute to this.

"Hermione!" her father cries out in alarm as she goes upstairs and throws herself onto her bed.

* * *

"She's almost there," the younger witch spoke, leaning against a door frame to the older witch's bedroom. The older witch had her back to her, brushing her hair with an ornate brush as she gazed into a magical mirror that did not reflect her visage.

"He will be most pleased to hear this."

"I only need the potion of Tempus Mortis to continue with my scheme. To finalize it."

"And what of them? Can they be trusted to carry this out?"

"Of course not. They need an extra nudge to do the deed. But I trust that you've already thought about the ramifications of it."

There was a confirming hum. "I took care of the needed arraignment myself. You know how he is. He needed complete assurance it would be a success."

"He doesn't trust me?" the younger witch pouted. "But I have done nothing to disprove my trustworthiness."

"And neither have you done enough to prove it."

The younger witch frowned, but without another word she left, leaving the other to finish brushing her hair in silence.

* * *

"Today, we are going to learn the unforgivables."

"What are those?"

"What does the title sound like, my star," Bellatrix huffs in amusement, twirling her wand through a curl in her hair. Hermione finds herself momentarily distracted by that but shakes herself back to focus. "Um, something bad?"

Bellatrix tsks. "There is no such thing as an evil spell. It is only how the spell is used that can make it evil. Now, there are three of these spells. And we are going to learn how to cast all of them."

"Aren't they dangerous? Or to high level for me to learn?" Hermione asks because she's not certain if she's progressed high enough to get to learning them.

"Don't be daft. You're a stellar student and you are more than ready to progress onto these new spells." Bellatrix brandished her wand. "Now, don't copy me just yet. Simply observe my casting and the effects when the spell is used."

Bellatrix revealed a rat in a cage. She took it out and placed it on a table. It began to wiggle it's nose, sniffing it's new surroundings. She stepped back and pointed her wand at it. "Imperio!"

The rat froze.

"Hop up and down for me," she commanded and the rat began to do exactly what she asked. "Spin." It did so as well.

"This spell, controls motor functions?" Hermione inquired with her best guess.

"Close. Keep going," Bellatrix encouraged.

"Controls minds?"

"Excellent!" the dark haired witch exclaimed.

Hermione's eyes were wide in wonder. "There are spells that control others minds? Isn't that dangerous? And a violation?" But even as she said this, her mind was lingering on if she could use this spell, she would make the bullies stop their bullying.

"Wrong," Bellatrix sounded off, and Hermione felt a prick in her mind, symbolizing Bellatrix had dived into it. "When a caster casts it, they need to actively keep it turned on. You cannot simply cast it and walk off with your day. It is an active spell and it takes quite a toll on whoever uses it because it becomes your mind over theres."

Hermione is bitterly disappointed by this. "I suppose that's swell then, so people don't go around controlling whoever they want."

"It's also banned by our government because it's a messy spell to deal with and no one likes being mind controlled. In the wrong hands it can cause a lot of damage which is why it's not taught in schools today. A pity, really, since it's also important to know how to throw the spell off."

"You can throw it off?"

"Naturally, but it takes a lot of training to do so."

"Will I be learning how to do it?"

"If we have time, but it's not a major concern of ours right now since not a lot of witches or wizards know this spell, it's quite unlikely to run into anyone who knows it."

"Now, you try it."

Hermione didn't know how she would get into the mind of a rat, but she wouldn't know until she tried. She flicked her wand like Bellatrix had and saw the rat stiffen. "Uh, chase your tail."

The rat did this. Hermione let the spell go. "That was easy," she said in astonishment.

"Because it was a rat mind. Not much to struggle in controlling them," the dark witch said. "Humans are harder to control. And I would advise against trying but the spell can also backfire and hurt your mind."

Bellatrix then turned her attentions back to the rat. "Crucio!"

The rat began to screech in pain, writhing on the table. Hermione's eyes went wide at this and her breath stuck in her throat. Before she could even say anything about it, Bellatrix stopped the spell and the rat lay their weakly, barely moving.

"This is a torture spell. I want you to try it."

"Try it?!" Hermione blubbered. "But I- I don't want to hurt the creature!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "It's just a rat. And you're letting your compuncture about a rat, get in the way of your training. If you don't finish learning these three spells then you can't progress," she explained sternly and non-apologetically.

"But why must I learn them?"

"Because, is it not best to know ones history than to be blind to it? We have to know these spells, all witches and wizards, so that we can avoid using them or avoid having them used on us," she sagely said. "Besides, you need not do these spells ever. You only need to learn them so we can moved onto other spells, spells more complicated as these."

Hermione twisted up her lips. Hurting another animal...? She didn't want to do it.

But Bellatrix was right. It was only a rat. And...Hermione did want to progress. She didn't want to be stuck on this point in her lessons.

She would just do it quickly. Would close her eyes as she did it.

She raised a shaky hand and shouted out the spell name. "Crucio!"

There was no squealing; she opened her eyes. The rat was fine. "Did I do it wrong?" a tinge of relief swept through her.

"Yes. You need to actually wish pain in order for it to happen. You have to have intent for it."

That was a whole other level of wrong, Hermione thought to herself. "I don't think I can dredge that feeling up. It's never done anything to me."

"Think of your bullies. Of all the hurt they gave you. Think of this rat as being a possession of theirs, and that by hurting it, you can hurt them." Bellatrix's voice was darkly seductive as she said this and almost as if by command, Hermione could feel the anger flowing through her. She raised her wand, ready to try once more.

"Crucio!" Still nothing. She focused on that rage more. "Crucio!" The rat jerked and then began shrieking in pain. Shocked, Hermione's anger faded away and she dropped the spell. The rat stopped hurting. Adrenaline shot through her veins. She had done it. She had learned the spell.

"Good job, my star," Bellatrix praised. "Though it was a weak crucio, we'll work on it a bit more later."

Hermione dreaded the idea of that, but she dread a halt in her progress even more, so she said nothing.

"The last curse, is the Killing Curse," Bellatrix said softly and with a flick of her wand, a green light shot out. "Avada Kedavra."

The rat let out one last sound and then it never moved again. Hermione felt a cold chill go down her back. She wasn't surprised there was a killing spell. But, she was surprised by how simple it was to cast.

Her throat went dry. Torturing one thing was something else. But killing it?

At least the rat was dead and she wouldn't have to do it. "This is for later," Bellatrix pocketed her wand, coming up to Hermione and running a hand through her brunette hair. She leaned down and gives Hermione a kiss on the cheek that was a bit too close to her lips. Hermione's whole face began to tingle and she could feel her heart rate skyrocket.

Suddenly, she felt like she could torture or kill as many rats as Bellatrix wanted as long as Hermione would get kisses like those. Bellatrix's lips were so soft and warm. They felt almost like they did in Hermione's dreams, when they weren't biting or nipping at flesh.

And soon Hermione's about to eat her own words because the next night she's expected to kill an even larger animal. A horse.

"I want you to do all three spells on it. Quickly now," Bellatrix urged as they stood outside where the horse was grazing on a grassy pasture, oblivious to what would happen.

"But I-"

"Do I hear objections coming from your mouth? The quicker you do this, you show me you can do it, and I can move on to our next ordained lessons," Bellatrix said hastily. It seemed she had a short temper today and Hermione's reluctance was only exasperating it.

Steeling herself, for she never did like disappointing her mentor or her own witch kind, she began to showcase her spells.

"Imperio!"

The horse began to gallop, then walk on two legs. Hermione could feel a bead of perspiration slide down her back. Controlling a horse brain was harder than a rat, though probably still phenomenally easier than a human one she was sure. Bellatrix nodded her head as she watched Hermione's progress, indicating for her to go on.

Hermione's mouth felt dry as she shouted out, "crucio!" Focusing on really wanting to hurt this animal. On being pissed with it so her torture spell would work.

The horse fell to the ground, neighing in pain. She clamped her lips shut and kept the spell up for ten seconds before she dropped it. Bellatrix nodded her head, making sure Hermione continued onwards.

Hermione knew was coming up next. She had to bolster herself; get it done as quickly as possible. Like ripping off a band aid. Now Hermione's mouth tasted sour as she uttered the last spell. "Avada Kedvra." Said so softly she thought maybe it wouldn't work. But it did.

She watched as her flash of green light took the light from the horses eyes. It stopped twitching, or breathing, or anything. She felt a cold sweat drench her. She didn't feel comfortable killing the animal but...it wasn't nearly as awful as she thought it would be. She thought she would feel worse over it. But she didn't. She only felt mildly guilty and horrified by what she had done.

"Good job my star," Bellatrix praised. "You've passed the hardest part of being a witch." She approached Hermione, digging a hand through her brown curls. "Soon, you'll be doing even grander things. I am sure of it."

And those warm words made Hermione forget she had killed an animal, because a promise of power was too much. She smiled up at her mentor and the two of them looked at the dead animal, both seeing different things in it. Hermione, her future as a witch, and Bellatrix, a future that was dark for the young woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Steadily getting there, step by step. Hermione isn't aware of it but she's becoming darker with each lesson. There's clues on Hermione's progress to the dark side in what she wears when she's in the dream state. White: innocence. Gray: morals lowered. Red: blood. Black: corruption.


	6. Drawing Further In

_A year and two and a half months later_

"Here, this will help you," Hermione said covertly, slipping Ron a small potion. Felicus Felix. A luck potion. He would need it in order to pass the Quidditch try outs because of what Hermione knew, his knowledge of the sport was technical but his actual playing skill was passable and not the talent needed to get on the field. She knew technically they weren't supposed to make this potion, or brew it, but she needed to get on Ron's good side, more than she already was.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking uncertain and stupid in that Quidditch outfit of his. Hermione never found the point in sports, human or wiccan. So what if you won a game? No real progress was made. It all was erased when the new season began. If Hermione was going to put so much effort into something, she wanted to see long lasting results that had a consequence. And not something only for the entertainment of stupid viewers.

And yet, Qudditch was vital to both Ron and Harry and she would be foolish to write off it's merits. She could use it to get into their good graces. Which honestly wouldn't be so hard. Boys were so much easier to fool than girls because their egos made them believe false praise more easily.

"You'll be fine," she assured in a honey sweet voice that was more a purr. "It's only a little bit more extra luck. It'll help you pass the tests and get you on the team. No one's going to get hurt if you do this."

"Alright," he said, nodding his head and taking a tiny sip from the already small vial. Nothing happened but it didn't need to for the potion to be working already. "Best of luck out there," she whispered and he went off, clutching his broom stick tightly and jutting his chin out, already feeling more confident.

Harry had seen the exchange however, from a hidden spot he had been standing in up to now, and as he approached the brunette it was clear he was upset. "What are you doing. You can't have him drink that!" he exclaimed in an angry whisper.

"A bit late for that now," she said before smiling brightly at him. "Besides, it's not a real luck potion. I lied to him about it so that he would feel more confident. And if he readily believes he can't fail, he won't."

Harry blinked owlishly at this, his anger dissipating. "Oh, I hadn't known."

"Let's go watch and support him," she said, having lied to Harry about the true nature of the potion. Not that he ever needed to know.

They sat in the spectator's spot, supporting and cheering Ron on when it was his turn. The luck worked and Ron was able to score points, protect passes, and overall dodge unsavory balls heading for him. It was clear he would get the spot.

When he came back to them, all sweaty and red in the face, but grinning widely, he let them shower him with praise. "Thanks," he said before his smile drooped. "I only wish Ginny were here to see this."

Hermione startled on this. Ginny? Could it possibly be the same Ginny who liked to bug her? She did share red hair with Ron.

"What about your sister?" she asked and Harry cringed at the question. "You don't know?"

"No," was the simple answer. For once, she actually didn't know more than them on something.

"She went dark," Ron said flatly.

"Dark?" but Ron was already marching ahead, his good mood ruined. She and Harry watched him go, the boy needing his space, even as she burned with questions. "What do you mean she's gone dark?" she turned to Harry, hoping the bespectacled boy would tell her more.

"No one knows why she did it. But one day she just up and attacked the family, killing one of her brothers, Fred, and then running away. No one's heard from her since."

Well, that was an interesting tid bit. "And before all this, she loved Quidditch. She was a star player." Harry shook his head. "And I liked her too."

Even more interesting, she thought to herself, and for once she hoped to see Ginny's freckled face so she could quiz her on this.

As Hermione made way into the castle with Harry a familiar face was seen across the hall.

Draco saw Hermione coming down the hall and he blanched, going the other way with his side kicks. Hermione smirked to herself. Good. He was still afraid of her.

"Wonder what's wrong with Malfoy now," Harry frowned, not privy to the true reason why Draco was acting like this.

"Maybe he's gotten bored of bothering us," Hermione shrugged not caring about him as long as he didn't bother her ever again.

She and Harry separated on the stairs and she went to the girl's dormitory while he went to the library to check out some books that he needed for his project. When she got upstairs, she found that her wish had come true.

Ginny sat on her spread, reading one of Hermione's books as she waited for her. "Excellent," Hermione said as she tossed her robes off and sat down at her desk. "Just the person I wanted to see."

"I thought I was the person you never wanted to see again. Why the sudden change?"

"Ron told me something interesting."

"Oh, and what was that?" Ginny continued looking at the book, words even.

"He told me his dearest youngest sister Ginny had disappeared from the family after going dark. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"If you already know it is, why bother asking me," Ginny snorted, putting the book aside and stretching her arms over her head. "And I didn't go dark. People only call that what they don't understand as dark, as evil."

"Why not tell him the truth. Why hide from him?"

"I have a much more important destiny than to be the last child of the Weasley family. I would never get the recognition I deserve being with them. Besides, I despise them."

Hermione wouldn't question Ginny's hatred for her family. She knew too well how it felt to not be understood. To be thought crazy. She did have more questions about just how Ginny had gone dark but asking too much would be a weakness and then Ginny would have an advantage over her and Hermione hated not having the upper hand in situations.

"Are you ever going to tell him?"

Ginny shook her head no.

"Why not? He's your family."

"You had family too but they didn't matter in the end."

"Yes, but your family is full of wizards and witches."

"I didn't take you for a pureblood fanatic."

"I'm not."

"You speak like one."

"Shut up."

"All those readings and texts got to your head."

"Don't act so friendly to me. You know I'm still upset at you for what you did."

"If I didn't make you do it, than you would have still been stuck in that shithole life, afraid to do anything else. Afraid to make the next move. Face it, you love me for helping you."

Hermione tsked at Ginny who had jumped off the bed and approached her. The red head wagged her brows. "You have your uses for now," Hermione grudgingly admitted. And conversation on that topic was ended for now. "Help me learn how to fly better. I need to impress your dunderhead brother and his friend."

"Gladly. The greatest rumored witch to be, yet she's afraid of flying," Ginny teased.

"Shut it," Hermione hit Ginny on the arm as they left to go to the field.

They trained under the light of the moon, using stolen brooms. Ginny was patient in her methods to teach Hermione, for though Hermione tried not to show it, she wasn't the greatest fan of heights. Still, she pushed away her fear, knowing if she could not overcome even this simple and easy task, this part of witch culture, than what use was she to the cause?

She needed to be strong for them.

They needed to be able to look up to her and to rely on her.

"Did you make any progress?" Ginny asked as they slowly hovered ten feet from the ground, she letting Hermione get used to the slightly higher wind and the way it tugged on the broom under her.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione archly said.

"I just want to know."

"Checking up on my progress?"

Ginny sighed out. "Is it so hard to think that I care for you. As a friend? As a fellow wiccan sister?"

"Yes," Hermione spat out. "I don't like being used. Or tricked."

Ginny shook her head. "And how many times must you understand, it was needed. Needed for you to unlock your true potential."

Hermione shook her head angrily. "Cease talking about this now, or I will force you too."

And Ginny smartly clamped her mouth shut at this, because Hermione's magic was not to be trifled with. The rest of the time was spent merely flying on brooms.

* * *

"I've learned of Horcruxes," Hermione explained to the mysterious figure waiting for in Three Brooms, a shady bar outside of Ireland's capital. Hermione was polyjuiced and so was the other person, so it would be hard to tell who they were, if Hermione didn't already know who it was. Their unique scent was hard to forget. Or overlook.

"Potter stupidly trusted me and told me about their existence-"

"You must do nothing with them," hissed the figure, on edge and not impressed like Hermione thought they would be. "Just make sure that whatever Potter captures or finds, is safely guarded."

Hermione nodded her head. She knew what a Horcrux could do but she didn't know whose it was. Was it her mentor's? Or was it Voldemort's?

More research would be needed. And oh yes, Hermione would keep the Horcruxes safe alright, but only so she herself could see what use they would be to her. She didn't mind working for the cause but she found they were getting a bit too controlling of her. And she hated to be controlled. With her powers, she should be able to do whatever she wanted to.

They had encouraged her to take and take, after all. So why should she not take what was hers? Even if it meant taking from the cause.

But it was one thing to learn about the Horcruxes and another to find them. Still, she made steady progress. With her legimency skills, she had no trouble diving into Harry's mind. But, finding and picking out memories was hard, given he could put shields up on his mind. Snape had trained him in his fifth year and Hermione often couldn't get deep enough before his subconscious defenses kicked in. He never suspected her but she didn't want to risk it.

Ron's mind was easier to deep dive and so she rushed through it, laughing when she found he had a crush on her. It was amusing. And certainly never to be returned, though it could be manipulated. But that was for later.

She did however find something alerting and set up a meeting with the figure from before, this time the two of them having lunch in a muggle cafe. "One of the Horcruxes has been destroyed." Her face was grim but her expression did not startle when the figure slammed their fist into the table top, disrupting the waitress walking by and making her tray fall.

She bent down to clean the mess and the figure made a silencing spell around them so no eavesdropping could commence unintentionally.

"What do you mean?"

"The diary has been destroyed." She had seen it from Ron's eyes as the lingering smoke from the diary burst, taking on the shape of a young Tom Riddle. Hermione knew enough from Harry that this was Voldemort when he was younger. "I can't keep that part safe. But I can keep the rest safe."

"Then do that," was the hissed answer. "Or else it can lead us to ruin."

"What aren't you telling me?" Hermione leaned in, the mustache of her borrowed look curling up in anger.

"You don't need to know everything," was the response as the figure leaned back in their seat, pushing back some dark locks from a dark face of their borrowed look.

"I think I deserve to know. We've been through too much," she indicated between them.

"I will not compromise our mission for the sake of feelings. The cause comes first and first most," and then they stood up while Hermione crossed her arms angrily over her chest.

Something was coming in between their relationship and she had a feeling it was all Voldemort's fault. She grit her teeth. Another bully.

That wouldn't do.

* * *

Hermione knew something was up. It was written all over Harry's face if his thoughts hadn't been screaming loudly enough the fact that he was going to go on a top secret mission with Dumbledore. And a top secret mission could only mean one thing.

Horcruxes.

She needed to be there. But she couldn't feasibly just show up and demand to be included. No. This would take meticulous planning. Which would be hard, since Harry himself had not been briefed on plans so Hermione couldn't just search his thoughts or stun him and do a quick piensive reading. No doubt Dumbledore would just take him along and the rest of the mission would be explained there.

Which was why Hermione needed to be there. But how...?

She found Snape working in organizing his extensive collection of potions supplies at the end of the school day. "Yes, Miss Granger," he said in that derisive tone of his. He really didn't like her. And she really didn't care.

"What's Dumbeldore up to?" she asked, not having time for pleasantries. According to Harry's erratic thoughts, he and the headmaster would be leaving in two weeks time.

He stilled in his motions and she knew he was trying to read her thoughts. She blocked them and he tsked angrily at being foiled. "I don't know," he answered at last, turning to place a vial of black liquid carefully upon a shelf.

"You're supposed to be Dumbledore's confidant. And a spy for us. So why don't you know?" Hermione asked unkindly, picking up an unlabeled jar and tossing it from one hand to another. "Put that down," he growled, flicking his wand and snatching it out of her hands and placing it on a top shelf.

"And to answer your question, he does not always impart everything to me. Especially when it concerns the boy."

Hermione knew Voldemort had a thing for Harry. Wanting to kill him because apparently it was Harry's fault that Voldemort had been killed in the first place. Hermione thought the bald headed man foolish for that because surely, what threat was a 16 year old boy to a man nearly double his age and magical prowess.

"Hm, I'm not sure I believe you," she answered lightly but her words rested heavily on him. "And I don't think the cause will like hearing how you've become useless and a failure at your job."

He swirled on her, eyes growing angry at her easy remarks. "Miss Granger-"

"Find me what I need to know. And I won't say a peep. But," at this she drawled in her native American accent, coming closer to him and patting him on the cheek patronizingly. "Fail me and you will have a far worse time."

Message and threat clear, she spun on her heel and left the potion's room, allowing Snape to stew in anger and worry.

He delivered two days later the information Hermione needed and smiling, she burned the parchment his reply had come on and set things into motion.

* * *

"It sucks to hear that Mione. We're sorry things ended up this way," Ron said sadly. He and Harry came to see the brunette off as she wiped away her crocodile tears. She had been suddenly called away due to her father's ailing health and she would be gone for a little bit so that she could stay by his side. This would mean missing school, but she had been pardoned and she figured Snape could not be happier to see her leaving. He also no doubt wondered if someone else would be sent in her place.

But she hadn't told him any of those things. He thought she was leaving and going to help the cause elsewhere. And that was all he needed to know in order for her to succeed.

"It is how it is," she said evenly, trying to keep her nose from wrinkling up as she pressed the tears back. "But stay strong. And send me an owl if you ever need help with homework."

Harry laughed at this and shook his head. "We'll owl you if we miss you, Hermione."

Those words filled her chest with warmth. How long she had wished to have friends like these that would trust and confide and like her. It made her feel a twinge bad for what she had to do next. But the cause was important and if they truly were her friends, they would understand things in the end.

"Hopefully I won't be long. And my father will get better and I'll be back here before you even know it."

"Hopefully," Ron chimed in and Hermione smiled at him, knowing he would be missing her even more because he had romantic feelings for her. They would come in useful at some point.

They said goodbye to her and watched as a horse and carriage took her away from the school. But instead of taking her to the train station so she could take the express back home to London, she had it drop her off at a little hut that was a ways in the woods past the grounds of Hogwarts.

"Are you sure this is the right place, miss?" the driver asked as they stopped on the gravelly roads. He looked at the intimidating woods in front of her and at how small and defenseless she looked.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm quite sure." And then she took out her wand and pointed it right at him, oblivating his memories of her and what he was even doing here.

He blankly sat there, shoulders lumped over as drool trickled out of his mouth. Hmm, seemed she had over done it with her powers. The spell had been too strong and she might have done some permanent damage. She shrugged. Oh well.

Not her concern anymore.

She took her suitcase with her and walked up the path to the hut.

* * *

"Are you ready, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he came to pick up the boy for their Horcrux mission. The boy was nervous, fiddling with his glasses.

"As ready as I can ever be," was the timorous response. And truly, how could he ever be ready if he didn't know the full extent of what was going to happen. All he knew was that he had packed a bag to bring with him, an emergency bag of sorts, in case of who knows what.

And it was a good thing he did bring it. Taking swigs out of his bottle helped calm his nerves a bit because it gave him something to do. Distracted him a bit from the harrowing adventure he was about to embark on. But long story short, he and Dumbledore were able to get the Horcrux and came back to Hogwarts in one piece, though Dumbledore was hurt. Badly weakened.

Harry eyed the headmaster's blackened hand with concern. How would Dumbledore protect them from Voldemort now? He was their strongest defense.

"You will have to protect them, Harry," Dumbledore replied, reading Harry's thoughts and giving him a grandfatherly smile. "The fate of the wizarding world rests in your hands."

The thought only made Harry glum. He didn't want to be a hero, but it seemed he would have no choice. With another Horcrux destroyed, it would be only a matter of time until Voldemort was weakened enough and viable for Harry to take on. He only hoped he could count on his friends to be on his side when the time arose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alright, now we're going to get into the crux of the story next chapter. I'll be doing a double update this month since this chapter is a bit shorter than usual. The next update should be on the 19th.


	7. Celebrate the Hate

* * *

_Got me, now I can't resist_

_And all I want is to taste your lips_   
_But when I kiss you, baby_   
_It's poisonous, poisonous_

_-Night Club, Poisonous-_

* * *

"Given all your hard work, I thought we could enjoy some celebrations. You're nearly at the four month mark of your training," Bellatrix announced grandly as she skipped over some rocks on a icy stream. She held her skirts up, revealing heeled boots that went up to her knees, baring Hermione from seeing any of her mentor's sinfully smooth skin.

Hermione followed more carefully in an outfit of dark gray complete with red accents to make it more merry. She never got to choose her clothes. They always were on her when she came to the dream world.

The snow crackled blithely under foot as their breaths billowed. They'd cast a warming charm to keep them warm from the cold around them, which let them wear no jackets. "Witches are close to nature. They do not fear it, only understand it. We have no need to worry the cold or heat will kill us. Our magic allows us to triumph over such factors," Bellatrix had responded with when Hermione had asked.

"Does nature really love us?" Hermione pondered, as a bare twig almost took her eye out if she had not moved her head fast enough.

"Of course. Because we love it back. We cherish it. And that is what today's ceremony will be about. About the earth and recognizing the winter coming upon us."

"Will blood be shed?"

"Not yours," she answered in an easy hum, an insouciance air about her.

This made Hermione curious. Were they going to sacrifice animals to mother Gaia?

She followed in her mentor's footsteps until they reached where they were meant to be, a snowy clearing where the mouth of a cave jutted out. It was a small cave entrance and had icicles hanging down made of the purest looking blue. Bellatrix lead the way, ducking down and lighting up her wand so it shone in the dark. But it wasn't much needed. There was a light inside the cave, a faint soft glow that beckoned them forwards to where the chatter of echoing voices bounced off the walls.

The cave slopped downwards, momentarily becoming claustrophobic. And then they were inside a huge cavern where it was surprisingly warm given how deep they had gone. Water covered part of the cavern floor, the floating orbs which gave light to this, reflecting in the deep dark water that rippled with unseen animals moving under it's surface.

On the dry rocky out crag, there were several witches there, all standing under where there was a hole in the ceiling, a sliver of a moon visible.

The thick scent of incense curled around Hermione's hair and washed over her skin, like an old friend.

"Greetings, fellow witches," her mentor said to them, low voice murmuring pleasantly.

There was a smattering of greetings, some directed towards Hermione who meekly waved back. She still had no idea what this ceremony would be about, but she was eager to learn if only to please her mentor.

"Come, both of you," beckoned a woman Hermione recognized. It was Luna, wearing yet another odd garb. This one with flower heads and bones plaited into the very fabric of a sweater that hung down over her knees, a black robe under it that swept the floor with each step. On her head rested a crown of thorns, which had pierced her skin and was making blood pool down her face, some dried and some fresh.

She still had those same glasses on as before, blocking out her vision and obscuring her face.

She dipped her fingers into the blood trickling down her face and smeared it across Bellatrix's left cheek with two fingers before she did the same to Hermione.

Hermione tried not to cringe at the warm feel of it. But now the two of them matched everyone else who had the same blood marks. "Next, you must drink from the chalices to cleanse yourself," Luna instructed.

They were given two chalices, filled with a grayish murky liquid that had clumps floating around. "What is this?" Hermione asked, reluctant to consume this.

"Ash and charcoal. It is thought to have cleansing and purifying properties. It will cleanse us of the past season and prepare us for the next one. As the blood doth mark us as ready to partake in the ceremony." And then Bellatrix tipped her head back and consumed the drink without wincing and in one big swallow.

Hermione held her breath and did the same. It felt like sludge going down her throat and despite holding her breath she could still taste it. She nearly gagged but swallowed it down, making a face. She knew better than to hope that she wouldn't taste this just because it was a dream.

Done with that, they joined the other witches who were consuming a different beverage. Alcohol, Hermione soon found out as she was handed a cup and took a sip from it to cleanse the gritty feel of ash from her mouth.

"Now what do we do?" Hermione asked her mentor who was glancing around the gaggle of witches with an assessing eye. Hermione didn't feel comfortable enough to go mingle with the others so she really hoped Bellatrix wouldn't leave her alone.

"Now, we wait until the moon aligns and then we can start the sacrifice on the altar," was the response and Hermione looked over at the spit that was made of bleached animal bone and the small flame underneath it.

She was ever so curious to learn more about her culture and she turned to Bellatrix with questions on her tongue about the history of such rituals, the meaning of them, and how many there were. Bellatrix answered them readily until a hush fell over the crowd as the light inside the cave got brighter. This was because the moon had finally aligned.

"At last the solstice has arrived," Luna announced grandly as the crowd made way for her to part and stand in front of the altar right under the moonlight. "Nature is getting ready for the upcoming season and so must we. In order to thank nature for being kind to us, in empowering us and giving us protection, we offer our sacrifices to it, in hopes that it will replenish the earth and keep our connections strong so that we may serve the nature and it us."

A cow was brought out to the altar by rope by one of the other witch's. It was kept there as Luna pulled out a sharp blade from thin air. "Let the blood be splattered and offered to the fire." She jerked the cow's head up, the creature mooing frightfully before she sliced through it's jugular quickly, the blood gushing out like a waterfall. The witch who had brought the cow out, held a bowl under the cut, collecting the blood that fell there. When it had filled up enough, she tossed it into the fire which roared and turned a green color.

Hermione watched with wide eyes. Whereas she might have once turned away from such gruesome behavior, she only watched, wanting, curious to see to what else would happen. Her hands itched to do something.

Suddenly the witches around Hermione had materialized knives into their hands. Things of wicked steel, curved and sharp and of different lengths. Bellatrix pressed one into Hermione's hand. It was small and silver. Her's was all black, even the blade.

Hermione suddenly felt a tinge nervous. What was going to go on?

"Now, we must carve the flesh ourselves and offer it to the fires of mother nature." With that statement, all the witches threw themselves at the cow who had slowly been bleeding out and collapsed to it's knees.

It stood no chance against the horde of blood thirsty witches who stabbed at it, blood splashing on them, as chunks of meat and gristle went flying everywhere.

"Join in," Bellatrix enticed, standing by Hermione who had not moved, even when she'd been bumped into by the hungry witches. Together Hermione and Bellatrix slowly went in, the cow nearly invisible under the mass of witches there. But once they had carved what they needed, the witches took their offerings and went to the fire. The moon beams were right there, over the green fire and as Hermione watched, she could see that the meat that had been tossed in, slowly ascended up the beams and towards the moon. It was marvelous.

When some space cleared for them, Hermione clenched the knife in her fist and let it land down onto the back part of the cow. She was treated to a big gush of blood that splattered across her lips. It was salty and still warm and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, before trying to jerk out a chunk of whatever flesh remained. Next to her, Bellatrix also utilized her knife, and their thrusts synchronized as blood and gristle went flying onto them. Hermione had never felt more connected to her mentor than now when they were doing this together. Her lips turned into a smile that she couldn't control. Something in her chest bubbled and she also laughed but held back because a small part of her told her it wasn't right to laugh at this. But that part was too small to make her stop from this. When she had a piece, the slippery material cupped in her gristle covered hand, she turned to Bellatrix who had her own piece, the two of them heading towards the fire.

Hermione felt a sort of adrenaline coursing through her veins. An infectious thing that was wrought by this whole ceremony. All the witches that had contributed to the fires were swaying and humming a lullaby, one that felt ancient and made by the earth itself. Low, guttural and without actual words being used.

Hermione dropped the meat into the fire and watched it ascend, a sense of wonder in her eyes. She could feel it. Feel her offering being accepted. Feel herself being accepted by mother nature. She was doing it. Becoming more wiccan each day. But this, this had been a step that meant the process could no longer be reversed. She could never go back to just being a muggle. To just being Hermione Granger, victim of bullying.

She was going to take charge of her own fate.

And then, she joined the circle of witches and allowed the song to thrum through her bones, and though she had never sang it before, she could do so now. Closing her eyes, she felt herself drifting along with the magic underlying this all.

* * *

After this, training went on as normal. Though school would soon be over for the break, she had a lot of work she needed to focus on instead of her wiccan studies. Still, she barely cared about school anymore. She did her work however she fancied or not at all. Being a witch was more important to her. Because it was her culture. And it was something not everyone had. What would muggle studies help her anymore when she was on such a fantastical journey?

She knew her family would not be happy when they found out about her grades. But she didn't care. She wasn't scared of their reprimand. What could they do to her that her bullies already hadn't?

Her outings with Gibbsy also continued and she found to her joy, she was getting better at pranking others several times in a row without them noticing it was her doing it. It was very amusing to do and it was but a shame her bullies were in school when she did this, otherwise she would try it on them. But no, she would have something else planned for them.

She wouldn't let it stand, all the horrors they did to her.

She rolled up her sleeve and stared down at the ugly scar they had carved into her skin. She knew ways of how to get rid of this. She could easily do it. But she wouldn't. No. This would be a reminder of how she had suffered at their hands and how she would prevail over them.

There was still some time before Hermione had to do the huge event that would qualify her to finalize her training. She knew she would dedicate something special to the three of them. All she had to do was be a bit more patient.

But she would take Bellatrix suggestion of trying to contort the school to her own bidding. It would be a gargantuan task, and it would make others hate her, but she had no intentions of staying here. With her magic unlocked, she was leaving this shit hole town. Her parents could come with her, or not, depending on what kind of a fuss they would make.

As for Ginny...well, Hermione wouldn't do anything against her. She'd make sure Ginny would be okay during the whole process. Hermione didn't want to lose her. She was her only friend. So, she hesitated on cementing her plan of school wide domination on account of Ginny's reaction. She didn't want her to hate her.

Maybe she could erase Ginny's memory?

Considerations.

* * *

A dark haired witch sat in a room with a small table. On it were two cups of tea. Both as black as ink. In front of her sat a man with no hair and skin scaly like that of a snake. His two nose holes flared as he took in the scent of the hot tea, the kind he loved.

"How is she coming along?" he asked, in a voice like a dry whisper.

"She is learning, my lord. She is a perfect potions crafter and she has immense power. Most importantly, she has a will and the sharp mind needed to learn."

"So she is the one from the prophecy," he asked before reciting it from memory. " _One born to the plain, shall rise up from the mud into a flame. Unimaginable power is theirs, should they be trained in those affairs. They can determine the fate of the world depending on if they are the shield or the sword. All will bow before them and as they take the world's hem."_

"I am certain of it. I did my research and I waited years to be able to do this. Waited for her to mature," the witch said. "She will help us defeat that old coot and his child savior."

The bald man nodded his head. "But I need her dark. She won't help us if her morals remain."

"You need not worry. I know what I am doing. She'll be dark and joining us in the battle soon. Maybe even leading the army of witches we have amassed."

"Good," he took a sip of his tea. It stained his teeth black, giving him a creepy look as he smiled, excited at the prospect of having the dark witch on his side much the same way a child was exited about the newest toy on the market. "Bring in Zabini, Parkinson, and Greengrass. They need to push harder so the next stage of our plan can begin."

Three blank faced teens stumbled into the room, compliant to whatever would happen next because of the Imperius placed on them.

* * *

"Where are we off to tonight?" Hermione asked as she found herself following Bellatrix from the front of the house they usually spent their lessons in, to the expanse of woods on her property.

"It's a surprise," Bellatrix said with a secretive smile, though she was carrying a picnic basket. Hermione could smell the scent of food coming from it.

"A picnic? During the night?" Hermione questioned, inexorably pleased her mentor was putting all this effort out for her, for whatever cause.

Bellatrix frowned. "Did you really have to ruin it?"

"Sorry," Hermione ducked her head. "I just wanted to know."

"It's going to be more than just a picnic, I have so much more in mind for you," Bellatrix added which had Hermione's mind filling with dirty thoughts, which naturally, Bellatrix saw because Hermione had left her mind wide open. "Hm, not exactly what I had on mind but I appreciate the enthusiasm."

Hermione flushed beet red. She usually tried to keep her thoughts private around her mentor, and away from such territory, but she slipped up occasionally. It never became any less embarrassing the next time she slipped up. "Um, I-"

"It's alright, my star," Bellatrix soothed. "I've seen it and heard it all. You wouldn't be the first or the last."

That didn't make Hermione feel better. In fact she felt jealous now. Who else had thought this way about her mentor? Not that it was a surprise, she was a wonderful specimen of a woman and so skilled and talented. But Hermione didn't want those kinds of people around her mentor. She didn't want to know what they thought of her. She wondered if Bellatrix was as kind with their thoughts as she was with Hermione's. Did she...did she by any chance indulge those thoughts from time to time?

Hermione shook her head to dispel her thoughts. She was getting side tracked again.

They were in the woods now, being careful so that their dresses wouldn't snag on low bramble and bushes. They walked past the pond they had seen naiads in before and went further down to a spot in which there were little balls of light floating around. Like fireflies but bigger and slowly drifting up and down.

Hermione was wide eyed as she took this all in. "Wow," she breathed out. "What are they?"

"Lantern sprites. Called so for their brilliance," Bellatrix answered easily as she plopped the picnic basket in the middle of the clearing. As soon as she did, everything shot out of the basket like a waterfall, the blanket snaking out and arranging itself with the plates of food attached to it.

Hermione and Bellatrix sat down on the blanket, the dark haired witch casting a warm charm so that the two of them could sit and eat without worry of freezing.

"What is this picnic for?" Hermione asked as she picked up a tart and began to eat it, licking off the warm gooey filling that was on her fingers. "Are we celebrating something?"

Bellatrix looked a bit perplexed, tipping her head to the side and spilling her luminous obsidian curls down her shoulder. "Does there need to be a reason? I simply wanted to reward you for all the good work you've done. You've aced the tests I gave you last week and you continue to astound me with your skills and temerity."

Hermione flushed at this praise. "It's because I have such a great mentor as you. No one else can teach me the way you can."

An almost predatory gleam appeared in Bellatrix's eyes before flitting away as she turned her attentions to the sprites above them. "No, they certainly can not," was the sultry agreement. "I brought you here also to see something amazing. Normally Lantern sprites are jack shite. They don't do anything but zip around all bright and shite. But, they have mating rituals twice a year. One in the spring and one in the winter in which they choose their partners. And it is something amazing to watch," Bellatrix explained and laid back on the blankets, watching the silently floating lights. Hermione also laid down, their exhales mingling in the cold air as they waited.

They did not have to wait for long. Suddenly the lights seemed to shimmer and waver and then they went zipping all through the air, errant and every which way. A music seemed to thrum from them. As if their wings generated the sound as they zoomed on by. It was a melody that was mysterious and sprightly and yet filled the air with happy tones.

They had no sense of direction until five minutes in of this in which all of the sprites got into one giant swarm and teemed and massed across the sky, making up various shapes. Such as triangles, circles, long waves and even question marks. They sparkled like the best stars and Hermione found herself grinning like a child when in the end, the mass erupted and the sprites showered down like falling stars, this time in pairs.

The ritual had ended and the sprites had found their mates for the winter.

"Magical creatures are so fascinating, aren't they," Hermione said in wonder. Bellatrix and her sat up now, watching as a pair drifted down between them. This close, Hermione could make out the outline of their wings, and their pointy tiny legs and ears. Bellatrix held out a finger and the creatures landed on it, spinning delicately around.

"Aren't they just beautiful?" Bellatrix asked, looking younger in this moment. Like a child that had just discovered something for the first time.

"Yes," Hermione breathed out but she wasn't looking at the creatures but at Bellatrix now. For some reason, she was filled with sentiment and longing after seeing the sprites do their dance. It had been majestic and wondrous. It made her warm on the inside thinking how Bellatrix must care for her enough to take her to this. How she had been Hermione's guide into this new world. And she was beautiful too. Hermione had wanted to be close to her for so long.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She had to kiss Bellatrix. She just had to. Inspired by the dance of the sprites, Hermione leaned in, Bellatrix's eyes flicking up from how they had been on the sprites on her finger.

Her face was so close by and her lips were there, inviting, calling out to her. It was like magnetism, and her mouth covered Bellatrix's as she closed the distance between them. She kissed her hard and desperate, trying to savor this moment because she knew that this might be the only chance she got before she was rudely shoved off.

Like she had foreseen, Bellatrix's lips were soft. Tasting faintly of berries. And they did not move against Hermione's, as Hermione dug her hand into deep curls, that smelled richly of nutmeg. When she pulled away she was breathing heavily, heart thumping in her chest.

She expected anger or disgust on her mentor's face. What she saw was lidded eyes and a smirk curling up one side of her mouth. "You're going to have to practice your kissing, my star," she husked, in such a low growl that Hermione felt herself shake with anticipation. And then Bellatrix was prowling forwards, pushing Hermione into the picnic blanket as her hands dug into her hips, hard enough that nails drew blood, claimed and took, as her lips pressed against Hermione's.

This was a dream come true. Having Bellatrix's body pressed into hers, the hard corset biting and hard as Hermione struggled for breath. Bellatrix's lips were hunger personified, stealing the air from Hermione's lungs, biting until lips bleed, and pushing a searching tongue into Hermione's mouth and fighting for dominance with Hermione's tongue.

Hermione's first kiss felt a lot like dying and she wouldn't have it any other way.

She only wished she could have it in real life. That was the only way this could get even better.

* * *

Bellatrix was teaching, but Hermione couldn't focus. Couldn't think of anything since the kiss last night. It had been everything and she wanted more. One wouldn't be enough for her. And Bellatrix had returned it. It surely had to mean the woman felt at least something for Hermione. Otherwise she wouldn't have kissed back.

But Bellatrix gave no indications that they had even kissed last night. She had merely started the lesson, expecting Hermione to jump into it and be able to do it. But Hermione's usually sharp brain was muddled with hormones and all she could focus on was Bellatrix's mouth as she talked.

"Are you even listening?" Bellatrix snapped, irritated by Hermione's lack of attention.

"Sorry," Hermione squeaked out, ashamed to have been caught staring. She couldn't help it, however, because Bellatrix was right there, looking so tempting as always. Now that Hermione had had the chance to kiss her mentor, she wanted it again.

Bellatrix sighed out, a touch exasperated but with mild affection. "Hermione, your thoughts are so loud they've been bombarding me constantly."

Hermione sunk into her seat, mortified that Bellatrix had been able to read her mind without even trying because of nonstop and relentless way Hermione's thoughts were about the older woman.

"I know what you want," Bellatrix arched a brow knowingly, "but you need to focus on the lesson. When you complete it, you may have your reward."

Hermione's mouth gaped open at this. Did Bellatrix mean what Hermione thought she meant?

"Yes," Bellatrix answered her thoughts. "So, focus."

Hermione immediately snapped her back straight up and put her pencil to paper, devouring whatever else Bellatrix told her eagerly. Bellatrix was amused at the brunette's new found concentration and enthusiasm and when the lesson ended, she beckoned Hermione up with a pointer finger, the brunette nearly stumbling over her feet to go get her reward.

She stood timidly in front of her mentor, the woman appraising her with a curl to her upper lip. "Not going to kiss me first?" she poised playfully.

Hermione shook her curls. That had been a one time thing. She had been overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment. Now, she was nervous.

Bellatrix sensed this and raked a hand through Hermione's curls, getting a good grip there before she craned her head a bit to the side, assessing Hermione's face before leaning in and brushing her lips oh so carefully against the brunette's.

Hermione felt every nerve was on over drive and she couldn't help the whimper that came from her mouth. Bellatrix wasn't even doing much but she was already driving Hermione crazy. Bellatrix seemed to relish in this fact, letting her mouth hover a few centimeters from Hermione's, enjoying the trembling of the Hermione below her as the brunette strained to feel her touch.

And then mercifully, Bellatrix's pliant lips were fully on Hermione's thinner ones, gently teasing her. This wasn't like the first kiss they had shared. Bellatrix had been rough. Eating up Hermione's mouth like it was a feast and she starving.

This soft touch was nice too. And while it was soft for now, Hermione could feel the force behind it being built up. Bellatrix's mouth moved more hurriedly now, and Hermione tried to keep pace, her hands coming up and clinging onto the front of Bellatrix's shirt, though they were stumped by the hard corset in their way.

Hermione leaned more into it, about to open her mouth when Bellatrix pulled away. "I believe that's enough for now, my star. Or else we'll never get to the next portion of our lesson."

For the first time in a long time, Hermione didn't want to get to her wiccan lessons. She just wanted to keep kissing her mentor. She'd wanted her for so long and now that she knew Bellatrix was at least interested in kissing her, she didn't want to give that up.

"There will be plenty of time for us to be together," Bellatrix assured, swiping her tongue under Hermione's bottom lip. "But you need to focus on the work first. Because that is more important for your advancement."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. She knew her lessons were vital and so she'd content herself with the one kiss for now. As Bellatrix turned on her heel to lead the way to another section of the house, Hermione couldn't help but think about her and Bellatrix's evolving relationship.

Was it too early to ask what they were? Hermione mussed. She knew their positions were precarious and that they were only meeting during the night in Hermione's dreams but, was it so wrong to wish for more?

Either way, Hermione wouldn't push for anything unless her mentor wanted to. Bellatrix was older and she would know if this okay. If it wasn't, then Hermione would have to deal with the end result. For now, she'd steal kisses from the older witch whenever she could.

* * *

"Give her these earrings," the bald man spoke, the two golden objects glimmering on his gloved hand. To touch them to skin would be to infect himself. Not that he could get much worse but he needed the full magic to be on someone else.

"What are these?" the bored looking aristocratic witch said over her crumpet. Today had been a quiet day and she itched with the need for chaos.

"These will help. They will whisper seeds of evil into her mind."

"But she's already turned dark."

"Yes, but we need her to not balk. She still has reserves of morals. If she ever wavers, these earrings will push her through with the vile actions."

She hummed in thought but did not take them. "Do you not think my work satisfactory?"

"Of course it is. What a silly question. You have turned more dark than any other."

"Then you should trust me not to need the earrings," she said simply, taking a big bite and chewing loudly, in an unladylike manner because she knew it annoyed him and she was annoyed at him.

He folded his hand over them. "You are mad for another reason. You have grown too attached to her and don't want to hurt her. But you know she is nothing but a tool for us."

The woman's eyes hardened and she could feel him probing her mind. She resisted him. He gave up, for now. He placed the earrings on the table.

"Consider it."

"I won't have to," was her steady response before she coyly looked on at him. "And you fear my affections for you wavering." She caught him by the front of his robes. "But do not worry. My heart, soul and mind are in the cause still to this day. And they always shall be. Until we take what is ours."

"And what is that?" he probed, testing her.

She answered carefully, batting her eyes up at him. "The world from those filthy muggles."

He chuckled darkly. "Yes. We will reclaim what was once ours, and you, shall be queen by my side." He ran a hand down her cheek before cupping it.

She smiled into it.

* * *

"Star earrings, for you, my star. Consider it a late Thanksgiving gift because I know you muggles love the holidays," Bellatrix said, holding out the earrings to Hermione.

Hermione was stunned by this. The first thing that came to mind was correcting Bellatrix's assumptions. "We don't actually give gifts over Thanksgiving-"

"Pretend you do, for a moment, and indulge me," Bellatrix smiled as Hermione took the earrings a bit in disbelief that Bellatrix would get her anything. They were so gorgeous and no doubt made of expensive metals. "I don't- I don't have anything for you-" she furrowed her brow, wanting to give her mentor something.

"Don't fret about it," Bellatrix put up a placating hand. "I have money; there isn't much I am in need of."

"But-"

"If you really feel strongly about it, you can get me something at the end when you're done with your training," Bellatrix spoke up, knowing Hermione could be stubborn and wouldn't take no for an answer. This was a concession to that.

Hermione licked her lips. "Thank you," she said gratefully and still a bit shy with this, she came up closer Bellatrix and kissed her on the cheek. At the last second Bellatrix turned her head and caught her lips.

"No need to be so shy, my star. I've seen inside your mind, I know exactly what you'd love to do with me," Bellatrix said coyly, placing a possessive hand on Hermione's hip.

Hermione turned red cheeked and looked away, unable to stand under the full knowing stare of her mentor. "I...um, I don't know if..." Hermione swallowed, not even sure what she was trying to say here. Because her thoughts have been filled with rough and bloody lust. Ever since those dreams when Bellatrix was absent and Hermione's mind was filled with all the ways she could take and be taken by her mentor. It was exhilarating but always left her feeling like she was messed up. She tried to squash those thoughts down but never quite could.

"Hermione," Bellatrix started, cupping Hermione's face and turning it to her. "You haven't scared me away with anything. I assure you I can more than handle myself."

Was this...was Bellatrix saying she was open to sleeping with her?

Hermione suddenly felt a full body flush. Oh. Oh shit. She was throbbing with want like someone had turned her up to a thousand and she didn't ever think she could be turned off.

Bellatrix could see it written across Hermione's face clearly and she smiled as she leaned in, kissing Hermione hard, backing her up to the wall. This kiss was rough. Searching. Dominating. Hermione held on by raking her hands through her mentor's thick curls. Giving as good as she got. Over the lessons, not only had Hermione's magical latency improved but so had her kissing. Limited time in between sessions found her and her mentor wrapped up in one another, snogging like some sort of teens. Well, Hermione was a teen, but she had always thought herself more mature than the common rabble and yet Bellatrix brought it out of her, making her sappy and starry eyed and so pliant to the simplest touch.

Bellatrix could alight her body like no one else ever could and Hermione was putty in her arms. Her mentor seemed to enjoy the state she put Hermione in and took the chance to tease and flirt with her openly, dangling visceral pleasure in front of Hermione's greedy hands.

Hermione was sure their relationship had turned unprofessional by now, but it didn't seem to bother Bellatrix. "No one tells me how to teach you, and no tells me if I can or cannot date you," Bellatrix had stated confidently and unapologetically. And that had been the end of that discussion, though it cleared nothing up about their new found relationship. Bellatrix had used the word date, but yet they hadn't seen each other outside of these dreams and so it didn't really count, did it, if Hermione was dating a figment of the sleep world.

In the present, Bellatrix's talented lips were moving down Hermione's neck, roving into unexplored territory and making Hermione throw her head back and nearly crack the wall. It all felt so good. And she knew if they ever went further it would feel even better.

Bellatrix's lips sucked hard on Hermione's pulse point and the girl let out a shameless groan as she felt her panties soaking. A trembling hand clung onto Bellatrix's shoulder as Hermione's hips bucked up, trying to get contact. Bellatrix slipped a knee in between Hermione's thighs and the young girl couldn't keep from grinding into it.

This made Bellatrix pull back a bit, her dark eyes even darker with lust.

"Careful, my star, or you might start something you can't finish," Bellatrix said in warning.

"I can finish it," Hermione said confidentially and with need. She had no prior experience in such an area but she didn't care. She needed it. Needed to touch Bellatrix. To get those dreams out of her head and turn them into reality.

"Good, because I don't intend to let you stop even if you can't keep up," Bellatrix smirked, and then took Hermione's hand and lead her away to her private bedroom.

Hermione's knees wobbled with arousal and nerves, but she followed Bellatrix inside, knowing that if Bellatrix had thought her the dark arts, surely she could teach her other things as well.

* * *

"Hermione," her dad began very uncomfortably. Both her parents were sitting on the couch in front of her as she came in, back from school. She didn't have time for this. She had schemes to plan, wiccan arts to learn. Sleep to visit along with her mentor.

"We've noticed things...have been happening around you. Odd things."

Hermione tried hard not to roll her eyes. "Like what?" she had to pretend she was listening to this or else they wouldn't let her out of the house and she needed to go on that target practice session with Gibbsy.

Her mother squeezed her father's knee to help him on. "Weird noises coming from your room at night."

Hermione flushed here. It must be because of the times she'd been pleasured by Bellatrix. She had no idea she'd been that loud.

"And not only that, but we've heard you talking to yourself. A lot. When nothing is there," he added on and she swallowed, rubbing her hands over her knees. That was when she was with Gibbsy and he sometimes popped up into her room with delectable meals he had prepared her. Did they suspect her of being a witch?

"Your clothes are...different," her mother said, it being a mild way of describing the black sweater over a red shirt, paired with a black shirt and black stockings, a mockery of the school uniform. "You've gotten detention. Detention! Over your clothes. This isn't like you, young lady."

Detention. Big deal, Hermione thought sarcastically. How was she to be the best witch if she didn't get into a bit of trouble now and again. Hermione had barely batted an eye when she'd come into school and been warned about her outfit.

"Hermione, I don't know what you're doing but since you're normally such a good student and level headed, I'll let you off with a warning not to wear this again to school. It is not the proper uniform," had warned a teacher.

Hermione had merely rolled her eyes and continued coming back to school in this new modified outfit. Bellatrix had detailed it for her, mentioning in passing that these sorts of outfits were better than the ones Hermione wore, so Hermione had taken her advice and worn it, because she wanted her mentor to be proud of her.

The school, once Hermione came back from winter break, hadn't been happy at her behavior at all and given her detention, acting like it was the worst thing ever. "I can't believe this. You're getting detention Hermione. Over clothes," the teacher looked down at her like this was a bad thing. She couldn't care less.

Once upon a time she might have cared. Might have cried, broken down, over this. It would have been one of her worst nightmares. But now, it was merely something arbitrary.

"You even pierced your ears." Hermione's mother brought up.

Her mother was talking about the priceless earrings she wore. Bellatrix had given them to Hermione. There was no way she wouldn't wear them. Not when the object of her affections offered them as a gift. They were star earrings. Delicate but powerful in their own right. "And you look like you haven't slept in a while," her mother pointed out delicately and with care.

Hermione knew she had bags under her eyes, so black it was almost like she had makeup on. But she wasn't tired. She felt refreshed. Energetic. Ready to take on the world.

They knew nothing. How annoying for them to meddle now.

They had never bothered to interfere more when she had been bullied. Coming home some nights wishing she were dead. But now when everything was going well, they cared? Please, she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

They saw her doing it.

"Don't you roll your eyes at us, young lady," her father stressed, getting worked up.

She hadn't meant for them to see it, but now she was riled up by his anger at her. How dare he get upset when she was thriving! When she was more powerful than he could ever imagine!

She stood up from her chair so fast it rocked back. Her hands fisted. "Don't tell me what to do! You never cared when I was being bullied. All you did was tell me to get out of the way. Concerned and loving parents would have gone to the cops, told the principal. Done anything but sit around and tell me I was the one to blame for garnering the bullies attentions." Her words were rising in pitch, as were her powers. The cabinets began to shake. The lights flickered.

Her parents looked on with fear and shock. What was causing this sudden odd activity?

"So, right now, the both of you can fuck off!" she screamed and her parents cried out in horror as the bulbs burst, as the lighting fixture in the dining room fell and shattered on the floor and the cabinets doors opened as dishes rattled out and fell onto the ground.

Hermione turned on her heel and stormed off.

She didn't need this bullshit. Not now.

Not when she was so close to mastering her powers fully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So did Bellatrix give Hermione the enchanted earrings or just another pair to fool her lord? Hm, we may never know...
> 
> Also, not skipping out on them being together, but just relegating it to a later chapter plotwise.


	8. Cause and Causation

* * *

_This fury's burning_   
_Inside your chest_   
_It steals the air out from your breath_

_The hate inside_   
_Will eat you alive_

_-Tommee Proffit, The Hate Inside-_

* * *

Hermione was naked, flat on her back on silk sheets that were cool on her overheated skin. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was trembling with nerves and arousal. Bellatrix hovered over her, equally nude and taking her time in mapping out each curve of Hermione's body.

"Please," burst out of Hermione's lips unbidden. She hadn't meant to say this; but she couldn't wait any longer. It only drew a chuckle out of Bellatrix.

"Please what, my star?" she cooed, lips like an iron brand, making Hermione's skin hot wherever they touched. Marking her as Bellatrix's.

"You know what," Hermione huffed, a bit petulantly.

"I don't quite care for bratty behavior. Tell me nicely what you'd like," she said, stretching out like a panther on it's way to devour it's meal. Her body was warm and soft against Hermione's and the young brunette witch could make out faint silver scars on the older woman's body. Old battle wounds, it must be. Hermione knew better than to ask about them.

"Please touch me," Hermione whimpered, feeling needy and achy with the desire that folded itself into every crease of her body.

Bellatrix's lips curled up, pleased to hear this. She liked knowing she held all the control and Hermione didn't mind giving up control to her. But only to her. No one else would be allowed to wrest Hermione's control from her ever again. "How?" is the one word question that falls from red lips.

"Like the way I like so much. Like the way that drives me crazy," Hermione added on, a touch breathless now as Bellatrix snaked down her body, skilled hands peeling Hermione's sticky thighs apart.

Without anymore preamble, she dipped her head down, letting her tongue flick out playfully. It was a brief, light touch, but already it made Hermione's insides churn and her grip the back of the pillow her head rested on. This wasn't the first time they fucked, but it might as well be the first time every time. The stomach dropping, head spinning, gut churning sensations accompanied Hermione each time she joined the bed with Bellatrix.

No matter how violent they got, teeth ripping flesh, nails digging into blood, sweat clinging to every inch of their bruised and battered bodies. And no matter how far they went- sometimes perhaps even too far and Hermione had to deal with the state of her body that she was left in and that she had left Bellatrix in- it always felt fresh each time they were together.

Today was a more gentle day, only because Bellatrix insisted since last time they'd both broken a bone. But there had been beauty in that too. In the mutual pain. In the scars on their bones that would heal with time but that had been put there.

Hermione knew it wasn't natural to romanticize such a thing, but what did she care any longer? She felt this was the way she wanted to express her love and so she would express it like this. It was perfect then that Bellatrix expressed her love in equally brutal measures. With clenched fists and bared teeth and no sappy 'I love you's' as they were locked in erotic embrace on ruined sheets until the dawn could arrive to free them from their cage of carnal pleasures.

Bellatrix's tongue dipped out again, licking up the sticky fluids of Hermione's desire, taking her time to drive Hermione up the wall. She went slowly, never speeding up despite how Hermione needed it harder and faster to achieve her orgasm.

Her hands dug into pitch black curls now, pulling viciously. Bellatrix only moaned at the pain and kept up her steady slow pace.

Hermione was surprised when she came. She had felt stuck, and stagnant, and now relief over took her, making her shake like a leaf. She moaned her mentor's name and clamped her thighs to hold Bellatrix close to her.

When the waves were over, Bellatrix crawled up Hermione's body and pressed a hasty kiss to Hermione's shoulder before making way up to her mouth and kissing her there. Hermione let her tongue sweep into Bellatrix's mouth before she let her hands trail down Bellatrix's body. There was still time yet for another round.

Using her mentor's hips, she positioned her over her face, nails breaking the skin on the thighs. Red stood out stark against the pale skin, but Bellatrix didn't mind. Even when trying to be gentle, the both of them never could be. And it was because they knew they weren't weak and that they could take this harsh treatment.

Maybe in some way, all the pain from the bullying had corrupted Hermione's emotional and mental understanding of human contact. That it could never be soft, only ever harsh. It was something she didn't wish to dwell on, if only to focus all her attention on the beauty above her.

She loved going down on Bellatrix, if only because she could finally see a bit of the mask Bellatrix wore slide away. If only even for a second. Bellatrix also did let out the most delightful noises and she was doing so now, small little whimpers as her eyes fluttered closed.

Bellatrix was always composed, even when she came. But it was all worth it to see that flash of vulnerability on her normally strong features as pleasure overtook her.

"Keep it up, my star," Bellatrix murmured encouragingly as her hips rocked back and forth now.

"Have I earned it now?" Hermione asked as her tongue arching in the right way made the dark haired witch above her fall apart.

"No," was the unapologetic answer.

Recently, Hermione had wanted to call her mentor by her name, but Bellatrix insisted that Hermione earn the privilege. So far she had not earned it, and Hermione wondered what it would take in order to be able to call Bellatrix by her name.

It was after they had tired themselves out physically, bodies sore from delicious caresses, that they were lying next to each other, Hermione pressed up on Bellatrix's side and laying on her arm. The older witch was humming that familiar tune. The one Hermione had heard when she first met her.

"What is that?"

"A lullaby. A song passed down through the ages by our kind."

"It's beautiful." Hermione snuggled in deeper.

"Of course it is." Bellatrix scoffed.

"But not as beautiful as you," Hermione murmured, before drifting off.

* * *

February came with fresh snow and fresh drama for Hermione. The bullies had been silent for too long and this would not bond well for Hermione. She could tell they had been sizing her up, watching her, waiting to see when they should strike. She expected their vile actions to happen soon, and yet she was not prepared for them when the time actually came.

"Happy Valentine's day, loser!" Pansy snickered as Hermione howled, tears streaming down her red face. She clutched her leg, her foot throbbing and the bone there broken from how the extinguisher had collided onto it.

That bitch! That bitch had dared to hurt her like this!

Pansy put the fire extinguisher back and walked off, still laughing as Hermione howled in pain.

"Ekipsey. Motherfucking Ekipsey!" Hermione screamed out at her foot but the healing spell didn't work. Why didn't it work?

This was all going terribly! She grasped at the wall, trying to pull herself up. Hopping down the hallway on one leg, not caring that people were staring at her and the red mess that was her face as she made way to the only safe space she knew.

"Oh my god, Hermione!" the nun nurse saw Hermione looking hurt and came to her. It only took her a second to analyze what had happened. "We need to get you to a hospital and now!" she urged, sitting the girl down and propping up her foot. She didn't even need to ask Hermione what had happened. She figured it was one of those nasty bullies.

Hermione tried to keep her whimpers down but it was hard to. Her foot had swollen up and now it was three times it's normal size. Hermione tried not to look at it, wondering why her magic hadn't worked on healing it.

Was it because the spell was too small for such a serious injury? But she didn't know other healing spells. That wasn't a thing she learned during her lessons. She'd have to ask Bellatrix about some later.

The nun nurse wiped away some of Hermione's tears and put an ice pack on the foot to reduce the swelling, cooing soothing words to her and brushing back her hair.

Eventually the loud wail of sirens came and Hermione was taken to the hospital.

* * *

When Hermione came back, she was a bit dozy from painkillers, and had crutches to help her walk. Her mom helped her into her bedroom, insisting that Hermione get some sleep. Hermione wasn't going to argue about that. She wanted to sleep this awful day away and see her beloved. Bellatrix would know what to say.

As soon as Hermione's head hit the pillows, she was asleep, dreaming of screams and bones and shattered smoke that clung to her body oddly. When at last she was came to the dream manor she spent a lot of time in, she saw Bellatrix rise up to her feet when she noticed the cast on Hermione's leg.

"What happened," she snapped out, anger and concern mixing on her pale features, drawing them together.

Hermione broke down, unable to speak without being reduced to tears. She quickly blubbered the whole story, not sure how much Bellatrix was able to get out of it before she was crushed into a strong hug, her tears pearling on Bellatrix's dark outfit.

"Sh, it will be alright my star. You know what you must do now."

The tone was light but the words were dark. Hermione did know what she had to do. A most grim task indeed. But one that was long overdue.

"Let me fix your foot and then we shall begin our lessons for today," Bellatrix stated and took out her wand to do as such. Immediately Hermione felt better, and more ready to conquer the day.

* * *

The next morning found Hermione in a chipper mood with her body back to normal. She stretched out foot, grateful she could use it again like it was meant to be used. Sadly, it was a weekend, which meant Hermione couldn't show up at school and show off that she was no longer injured. But, that would come on Monday- she could use this weekend to enact a plan of perfect revenge on her bullies. She wanted them powerless, humiliated. Hurting. And most of all, gone.

But she couldn't be sloppy about it. She was but one girl and she did not want any run ins with the police. She also didn't want Ginny to find out about this and hate her. That would break Hermione's heart. Ginny was the only friend she had.

With a bright stride, Hermione walked downstairs, finding her parents already there, looking at her in astonishment.

"Wasn't your foot broken yesterday?" her father asked, slowly and deliberately.

Right.

Hermione had forgotten how she would explain that away because she had been so wrapped up in other things. "Uh, it must have not been that bad." She shrugged, while sweat began to come down her back.

"Hermione, we were there at the hospital. We saw the x-rays," her mother tacked on in a slow horrified tone.

Hermione gave a helpless shrug. She really did not have time to deal with this right now. "It must be a miracle. I'm gonna run out and get some last minute groceries." And she brushed past them, not wanting to stay in the house any longer.

She didn't grab her coat but she had no reason to worry. Gibbsy was there outside, holding her coat and the scarf, mittens and hat folded neatly on top. She took them and put them on.

He wore nothing to keep himself warm but something told her he would be fine. He was magical after all.

"It's most bad that Hermione's parents know," he fretted, rubbing his knobby fingers.

"They don't know yet. I won't let them find out." She had made a pact that forbade her from revealing her true identity from anyone, even her family. The witches were her new family. Because they knew and understood her when no one else could and Hermione would do everything she could to protect them.

* * *

If Hermione thought she was going to enjoy this weekend, she was sorely disappointed. No, worse than that. She was going to be devastated. She texted Ginny to met up with her Sunday morning so that they could watch a movie together and talk about how horrid Valentine's day had been to both of them. Ginny knew what had happened to Hermione but she didn't know that Hermione had recovered yet. Hermione was planning on telling her it was a minor fracture that had simply looked worse than it actually was.

She didn't want Ginny knowing she was a witch. Though, one day she might have to tell her if only because circumstance might push it out, especially when Hermione took her revenge against the school.

To her, it had become an ugly place long ago. The cheery colors, the banners of happy students, were all lies used to mask the true state of this place. When she took things into her hands, she would reveal the true nature of this school, of all the students who went there.

Deep in her thoughts, the snow crunched under Hermione's shoes, as the grocery bag full of snacks for them to consume while they binge watched a TV show swung in the air happily. A buzz in her pocket told her she got a message. She took out her phone and read it, a small frown growing on her forehead.

Ginny wanted to met Hermione in the parking lot behind the abandoned grocery store. That was odd...why would she do that?

When Hermione asked why, the answer she received was a quick 'hurry up' text. Shrugging, she figured maybe Ginny had discovered something cool and so she went that way, going quickly for the air was cool and her cheeks were beginning to turn red from it.

When she got there, she could make out a lump on the snow. She narrowed her eyes, wondering what that was. She got closer, pace hurried until she stopped, feeling her lungs empty of all air as she was punched to the gut.

Footsteps in the snow circled around the woman who lay there, her locks red against the snow like the blood that dripped from her, making a slow circle.

No...

It was a defeated cry of anguish. Hermione sank down next to Ginny's body. Limp, lifeless, skin pale and the lips blue either from frost or from death. Even her hair was dull and colorless, looking more like spilled blood than the pumpkin spice color it had been.

Tears gathered in Hermione's eyes.

This was it. The final straw. They had taken one step too far. They had taken someone elses life. Had killed Hermione's only friend so she could be miserable.

Rage began to shake her now. Magic raced along her fingers, blue arching so strongly that even her wand could not handle the over flow of it, sparking and the tip burning hot like an ember. She rose to her feet, breaths unsteady, panting like a bull about to run one through.

And that's exactly what she wanted to do. Run them through, make them scream. Watch their guts spatter to the ground as they pleaded for their lives. And she would give no mercy.

This was on her. Ginny's death was _her_ fault.

She had power. She should have done something sooner. Should have controlled them better. Now she had no choice but to eradicate them because they were too evil for their own good. If they had killed once, they would kill again.

With an one track mind, Hermione left the empty parking lot, the snow melting under foot from the sheer magical energy and heat she was radiating. Even the flakes dropping from the sky did not touch her, melting as she walked.

But first, they would learn pain. Learn how it was to lose a loved one.

She walked to where she knew they lived.

* * *

Her first kill was one of pure rage. She barely registered it, green light flashing everywhere as she stalked through Daphne's house, hitting anyone who was there, not caring who they were or could have been because to her eyes they were all marked people for the crimes Daphne had committed.

She saved Daphne for last, running her down into her bedroom, the girl shrieking as she hid behind a flimsy door that Hermione could blow down easily.

"It wasn't my idea. I swear it! Blaise and Pansy did it. They did! I was only there!" she wailed, terrified out of her mind at what she had seen Hermione do. The house was a ruin, spell marks all over the walls and furniture and dead bodies under foot.

Hermione blasted the door down, causing Daphne to shriek and hold out the knife she had snagged. Hermione snicked unkindly and flicked it aside with her wand. The knife embedded into the wall with a soft snick.

Daphne pressed herself against the wall, tears streaming down her face. Hermione was too mad to even say anything. All she saw was Daphne looking pathetic and felt the gut wrenching feel of this was how Ginny must have felt in her final moments. That drove the spell home, Daphne dying with a scream of horror as Hermione cast the Avada Kedavra.

Done with this house, she went to the next.

* * *

Her second kill was less rage infused and more sadistic.

Some anger had left her. She was no longer blinded by it, but she was still upset and she was hell bent on making the bullies suffer for what they had done. Blaise was next. He was alone at home, playing video games when Hermione crawled in through the window, face expressionless and hair tangled from the wind.

"Granger what the hell are you doing in my house-" he didn't get to finish, because Hermione flicked her wand and he was on the floor, screaming his lungs out as she crucio'ed him.

"This is for all the pain you caused me," she whispered over his screams. "For the daily insults and bullying. For the others you hurt. And for Ginny, who you murdered, you murderer!" A grin stretched her face. "Let's see how long you can last through this pain. I had to, because you gave me no choice."

She utilized the spell, torment for three minutes, then a break in which he would whimper and cry and try to escape only for her to start the spell again. She must have sat there, on his couch, tormenting him for a good three hours until he lost his voice and could not scream anymore.

"I hope you enjoy hell," she stated quietly and firmly and then set him on fire. He was so wiped out he could only twitch as the flames burned him through until he was nothing but charcoal and ash.

* * *

Her third kill was more sane, in that she drove the other insane.

"Hello, Pansy. You remember me?" Hermione asked, with a little crazed grin, leaning in over Pansy's form on the floor, where the big woman was cowering from her. Blood stained the walls were Hermione had exploded the heads of the other unimportant people that had been in the house when she'd invaded it.

"W-what do you want from me?" Pansy croaked out, tears soaking down her cheeks.

"You bullied me. Remember that?" Hermione didn't wait for an answer. "And you killed Ginny."

"I didn't- I don't remember doing some-"

A scream as Hermione slashed down with her wand and a cut appeared on Pansy's thick thighs, oozing red. "You killed her. I don't care your reason for it, but your reign of terror stops now. Bullying me was one thing, but hurting others?" Hermione shook her head, her red soaked locks flopping around her face. Pansy couldn't stop gasping for air and looking fearfully at the glowing wand in Hermione's hand. "No, this stops now. I have the power to stop it and I will. Blaise and Daphne already paid the price and now it's your turn."

"Please, Hermione- I'll change. I swear I'll be better-" Pansy began to plead. Hermione didn't want to hear this. How dare Pansy try to plead for mercy now?

"Oh, suck it up. It won't hurt much," Hermione smiled cruelly and then waved her wand over Pansy's head. "You will hurt yourself exactly how I instruct, and be aware of it and plead with me to stop but I will not," Hermione stated as she cast the Imperius curse.

The Imperio took place and Pansy fell under the control of it. Hermione let an excited grin cover her face. "Take that shard of broken glass and start cutting your wrists," she instructed coolly and Pansy watched in horror as her hands followed the command. Her left hand picked up the glass from the vase she had shattered as she'd tried to run from Hermione. She held out her right vein. "No...please," she begged but Hermione had no compassion.

"I'm going to leave a masterpiece of you. Perhaps you'll finally be pretty once I'm through with you." Is the cool detached answer from Hermione as she watches with dead eyes, no humanity left in them as of this moment.

Pansy cut every single veins in her body open that she could get her hands on and when that wasn't enough, Hermione handed her a knife and watched as the woman cut through her abdomen, sobbing and screaming the whole time until she ended up laughing from the shock of it all. Hermione joined Pansy's crazed laughter and then crushed Pansy's head in with magic until it exploded like a watermelon.

It splattered all over Hermione, coating her in salty blood.

* * *

"How is she coming along?" Voldemort asked in that whispery dry voice of his. The two of them stood in a dimly lit room, only a sliver of light coming in through the heavy curtains.

"They are dead," Bellatrix informed her lord, bowing her head a bit before him.

"They died for a good cause," he responded with callously, hands behind his back. "One that will further our future."

"When will you send for her?" Bellatrix inquired.

"Within a month's time."

"She still must complete her task, the grand task, to cement her concluding her training's," Bellatrix voiced, not comfortable with having Hermione quite leave the dream mansion just yet. Not ready to see her flesh to flesh.

Voldemort sensed her hesitance. "Why are you balking now, Bellatrix?"

"I do not want to push her. Her mental state is fragile and to push her into too much could have terrible consequences for us," she insisted.

"Are you afraid of her?" he asked with amusement.

"...no, I am afraid...for you," she breathed out, almost so low he could not hear, but he had.

"What do you mean by this!" he snapped out, angered by her. She took a step back from his ire, not wanting to taste the brunt of it.

"My lord, she knows not of you and of your brilliant mind," Bellatrix began, "nor does she know of the cause. She is not mindless like the others that came before her. She needs to be tempted to our side. She cannot be blindly thrust into it and be told to be loyal and serve. She will rebel. And with someone like her, with her magical prowess, that would be most unfavorable."

He thought about this, pacing a bit from her, the wooden boards creaking under foot. "I suppose you do have a point. Very well, you may tell her about the cause, indoctrinate her to it slowly and carefully and when the two months are up, she better be ready to serve the cause," he raised his voice, the last part a threat.

"When have I ever failed you, my lord," Bellatrix said, lowering her head in reverence. "You shall have your champion."

* * *

The news was rampant with the string of three murders.

Hermione had had the common sense afterwards to clean up her mess with some nifty magic spells. She had kept some souvenirs to remind herself for how she needed to be strong through this ordeal, keeping those grim trophies in a box under her bed.

No one would be any the wiser. And while the town puzzled over what happened to the families, Hermione went to go see Ginny. The girl looked peaceful, smiling even, as she lay on the white sheets. Hermione knelt by her. It might have felt good to kill those bullies, but it would never bring Ginny back. Hermione had done research and failed to find anything substantial on the after life. It broke her heart but it seemed even magic had a limit.

Her parents were worried over Hermione and her somber state. Hermione was really upset at Ginny's death. She had been her one true friend, her one true ally and now...now Hermione could count on no one but Bellatrix. Even her parents were traitors, expressing regret for the murder of the three bullies.

How could they sit there and feel bad about it, when those bullies had made Hermione's life a living hell and even killed someone! It wasn't right! Anger at her parents boiled in Hermione's body. They weren't acting right. She would have to correct them at some point or another. For now, she was too miserable to continue plotting revenge. She just wanted to curl up in her bed and sleep.

And sleep she did, finding herself in her mentor's house. This time she was garbed in a red silky dress that reminded her too much of the blood she had spilled.

"What is wrong, my star?" Bellatrix asked, sashaying over to the brunette and cupping her chin with one long nailed hand.

"You know what's wrong. Surely, you've heard the news," Hermione said sullenly, with a bit of petulance and bratty undertones.

"I have. You did a wonderful job; utilizing all three unforgivables and in such short time. I'm very proud of you."

Hermione perked up at hearing the praise but it wasn't quite what she had wanted from Bellatrix. "My friend...Ginny...she's gone. And I'm...hurting," she clenched a hand to her chest. "Can you...do something about it?" she looked up hopefully, eyes shining with hidden desire for Bellatrix to be able to do something. Perhaps cast a spell Hermione could not.

Sadness flitted through Bellatrix's eyes as she peered down at Hermione. When she spoke it was with true regret. "I'm so sorry, my star. But I cannot bring back the dead." Her voice was soft in a way Hermione had never heard before and the brunette dropped her head, knowing she should have expected such an answer. Still...

"Then, can you make me forget in other ways?" she asked, voice rough and Bellatrix tipped her head up to kiss her lips softly as their eyes slipped closed.

* * *

"Well, well, who knew that Hermione would feel so strongly about little ol' me, enough to make her snap," commented a red haired girl, standing in the open doorway of a bedroom. Bellatrix scowled as she pulled on her shirt. She had tired Hermione out, the girl asleep under the dark covers, looking peaceful for the first time in a long time.

"Listening in is rude," Bellatrix commented darkly. She ran a hand through her mess of curls and winced when she found blood on her finger tips. Hermione must have yanked harder than Bellatrix had thought.

"It's not listening in, if one can hear it all the way down the hall," Ginny pointed out as Bellatrix exited the room, closing the door on the room. She glared the red head down. The girl looked no worse for the wear given what had happened.

"Are you stupid? Why would you come here? What if Hermione saw you?" the older witch hissed, hand on the knob, holding it there in case the brunette woke up and opened it up.

"She wouldn't. Not yet. She'll eventually have to see me anyways because I work for the cause too or did you forget?" Ginny said before continuing on. "Voldemort doesn't like it when you have other playthings."

Bellatrix's wand was on Ginny's pulse point before the girl even finished the sentence. Ginny held up her hands defensively.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's an observation." Bellatrix didn't lower her wand. "You know he requires dedication and loyalty."

"And what's to say I don't have that anymore," Bellatrix hissed, eyes flashing black.

Ginny tipped her head to the side, pushing away the wand with one finger as she offered a twisted look. "I wouldn't get too attached if I were you." Her eyes cut to the door where Hermione slumbered.

Bellatrix's lip corner quirked up. "Ah, _that's_ the threat," she deduced dryly. "If I were you, I'd worry your ugly little head over yourself. Do your job and I'll do mine."

Ginny walked away down the hall and it was only when she was gone that Bellatrix slid her wand away. A dark look took over her features as she let go of the door and walked away in the opposite direction.


	9. To be Earned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My lazy ass didn't want to write chapter nine but I finally got around to it. There's more turbulent chapters to come and I hope y'all are ready. Like buckle your seatbelts up ready.

_A year and eight months later_

"All the Horcruxes have been collected," Hermione informed her contact. They were once more meeting in a secluded location, under the guise of being old women.

"Good. Now you just need to secure them from that old coot and the war will be as good as won. Dumbledore and that sniveling boy Potter will all fall to our mighty lord's prowess." The contact hissed, eyes manically gleeful. Hermione could not share that enthusiasm. She'd collected the horcruxes for a big bully, because she had been ordered to. But she didn't have to listen to orders anymore, did she?

She leaned in, deliberating if she should impart this next bit to Bellatrix. Hermione had never been sure of the older witch's allegiances and ever since spotting her with Voldemort her confusion only rose. Had all Hermione and her had been only manufactured for the sake of Voldemort? Surely it couldn't be true. Surely Bellatrix had to feel that connection that thrummed between them, drawing them closer. Maybe Bellatrix was only putting on a show for Voldemort. But what if she wasn't? What if she truly felt the way she exhumed for that bald headed man? If so, had she been forced to do that? He would seem like the type to bend and push until a person broke and only could see him as their saving force.

No, that would not do. Hermione had been his puppet for this long only because she herself had allowed it. But now that she knew, had his weaknesses in hand, she would take back her autonomy and take back Bellatrix.

"Bella-"

A sharp slap that startled Hermione into silence.

"You. Did. Not. Earn. It," was the gritted answer as fury burned in Bellatrix's eyes. "And do not be so stupid as to say my name now!"

Hermione sat back, stunned. The longer Hermione spent away from Bellatrix the more Voldemort was getting his claws into her. She could see that now. He was poisoning her. Bellatrix would never dare treat her like this before. But ever since the two of them had gone back to the cause, Bellatrix slighted Hermione in favor of currying favor with Voldemort. She fawned over him; it was revolting.

This last bit of disrespect cemented things for Hermione.

It was settled.

Hermione would have to save Bellatrix from Voldemort.

The man would ruin everything.

So Hermione would ruin him first.

* * *

Hermione never really cared for Voldemort's cause. It was boring. Wiping out muggles, establishing blood purity. Over done and done better, in her opinion. She'd only ever joined because Bellatrix was there and Hermione wanted to please Bellatrix by joining her and aiding the cause with her power.

But as Hermione stayed working for the cause, learning more about them, she grew to dislike it all. A nearly forty year old man with a vendetta against a 16 year old boy? It was laughable. Frankly, Voldemort should get a new hobby. What difference would defeating one boy make? He was just a boy and from what Hermione had seen of him, unimpressive. He had luck, that was it. Otherwise his magic was nothing fancy. He didn't even act like a fighter; didn't even have a single scheming bone in his body. Voldemort could very easily accomplish things if he just spent more resources on leading the cause and not on subterfuge in trying to get at Harry.

It was a waste of time and effort to continue such a task. Hermione was sure she'd come up with better methods to achieve all this and in less time too. But, he was the leader, and she but his pawn. And yet, she wasn't okay with serving him. Bellatrix had told her she would so much more. Hermione was certain she wouldn't get it by working under a man who hid behind purity as claims to heal the world when it was just a method to mask his racism with which he would bully others into submission or war.

Her thoughts, safely guarded thanks to learning occumelency from Bellatrix, could not be penetrated by him or anyone else, so she was allowed to more easily scheme of what she would do to him to fix everything. Especially to fix the way Bellatrix fawned over him.

It hurt to see the normally so powerful woman kneeling before him, and simpering, waiting on every word like it would bring her revelation. Hermione was almost certain Voldemort had done something to Bellatrix for her to behave like this. And her certainty only rose, each time she came back to bring back news or be present for a board meeting, or to give him the false horcruxes she caught, and saw Bellatrix scurrying forth to do as Voldemort pleased. She barely even acknowledged Hermione at that time.

Of course, when Hermione griped about it to Ginny one evening back at Hogwarts, Ginny had laughed. "The old nutter was always in love with Voldemort. He didn't force her into it, she chose naturally."

This had sent Hermione flying into a rage, hexing Ginny so viciously that she left the girl barely breathing amid a chaos of a broken bed, feathers floating around and drifting down like heavenly rain before sticking to the congealing blood as Ginny let out pitiful whimpers.

Trying to compose herself, Hermione ran a shaking hand through her hair, smoothing it down. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that to me. You're wrong," she spat and decisively turned on her heels and left her room, going to cool her head. When she came back, it was with potions from the healer that she used to heal a still broken Ginny who hadn't left the spot on the floor.

When the last potion was administered, Ginny bolted up and ran from the room, fear in her eyes. Hermione snorted, refusing to be hurt by that. "Coward," she said and then fixed her broken bed.

Hermione had eyes and ears everywhere in the castle. It made things easier for her to follow up on. When she overheard Draco was being asked to get the Death Eaters into the castle and was given the task to murder Dumbledore, she nearly laughed. Him? They trusted him with such an action? Why not her? She was much stronger and smarter.

She'd get those things done before he could, just to prove she was better. Hiding behind a pillar in the room of requirements, she watched as he tried to materialize a wooden duck and then put it in a cabinet and sent it out. Was he trying to open a portal that way? Ugh, she didn't like him at all either. He was just another bully. One that Bellatrix said Hermione could not hurt. Well...that whould have to be amended.

She could do so much better than Draco, and she would. She spirited away, head full of schemes once more.

Within two days she has her answer.

* * *

"What seems to be the problem, Harry?" Dumbledore asks the young boy as Harry paces the office, running his hands through his thick dark hair.

"I'm not sure I can do this," he admits. "Take on the dark lord. Save the wizarding world. You should be doing this and not I!" he says, coming to a stop as Dumbledore comes before him, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Harry calms down a bit at this as Dumbledore speaks, his blue eyes twinkling. "Harry, you will do great things. My time has come and-"

Suddenly Harry's face darkens as Dumbledore feels the hard press of a long object into his stomach. "Oh, your time has come alright, old man," he says in an American accent.

Dumbledore looks down in confusion at why Harry is pointing a wand at him. There's no alarm in his eyes, which is his mistake. "Harry-"

"Avada kedavra," Harry says softly, like a goodnight whisper among lovers, and Dumbledore's eyes roll up into his skull as the green magic flashes across the office like a picture being taken.

Harry didn't even gloat as the old coot's body fell, lifeless.

He snorted. So much for being the greatest wizard of all time. He hadn't even seen that coming. Soft footsteps alerted Harry someone was ascending the staircase to Dumbledore's office. Good. Harry didn't mind not having time to gloat. He had no need to until everything fell into place like he'd planned.

"Headmaster, you wanted to see me," Draco said as he came into the office and stopped, frozen by the sight before him, his pale face becoming even paler.

"Ah, perfect timing," Harry said, pushing up his glasses that had slid down his nose with his pointer fingers. He turned slowly to Draco who faltered back, as if thinking of making a run for it. "I've been looking forward to this," Harry said and then pointed his wand right at Draco.

* * *

The Death Eater's are a flurry, especially those related to Draco.

"How could you do this to my son? How could you!?" A blonde woman throws herself at Bellatrix, ripping at her robes in despairs and screaming through her tears. Bellatrix looks disgusted and lets the woman sink to her feet. "Stop sniveling and pull yourself together. You know the lord doesn't like weakness."

"But it's my son!" the woman wailed and was pulled away from her sister by a blonde haired man whose grief was hidden better. He pulled the woman to himself, while glaring at Bellatrix. "Narcissa, it's okay, your sister will figure everything out." This was meant as an accusation at her which Hermione did not weather well.

She quickly interjected before standing in between the two arguing parties. She wanted very much to strike Narcissa for being so terrible to Bellatrix, but Hermione knew better than to do that, for she would incur Bellatrix's wrath. Her blood relatives were very important to her. "It's not Bellatrix's fault that Draco did such a thing. She could only protect him so much before he slipped up."

Hermione tried to be diplomatic about this; she did not think it wise to insult either party here, nor to draw suspicion to herself.

"Stay out of this mudblood!" Narcissa spat at her, face twisting up viciously.

The slur cut like a knife through Hermione. She was so shocked by it, she stilled. She hadn't expected to be cursed at like this by an adult. By someone who was clearly less powerful than her. Hermione had thought she'd been above that, that her blood status was irrelevant as long as she worked for this cause.

She knows she cannot let this slight stand; she must hurt Narcissa for it, Bellatrix's requests be damned.

But before she can do anything, Bellatrix snarls out, "don't you dare address her as that when she has done more for this cause in the past few months she's been here than you have your entire life!"

Narcissa and her husband gasp, offended. Lucius is his name, Hermione vaguely recalls, while she's grinning from ear to ear now. Bellatrix had stood up for her, she cares! She still cares for her. Hermione could break out into song and dance.

"Don't you speak to my wife and your sister in that tone," Lucius says, his grip tightening on his grieving wife. "Not for someone like her," he gives Hermione a gimlet stare.

Hermione's grin drops. "Someone like me?" she asks, deadly calm. She knows where her wand is and keeps it in mind. She's only refraining herself from hurting them because Bellatrix is here. "I'm not the one stupid enough to fumble the plan to kill Dumbledore. Why that brat of yours was ever given such a high executive functioning task is beyond me when he could barely even bully Potter correctly," she said, peeling her lips back from her teeth. "And Bellatrix is not beholden to you to do anything for that brat of yours. She has other things she needs to attend to, other things that require her skills."

"Bella, you don't honestly think-" Narcissa ignored Hermione, turning to look at her sister who was standing behind Hermione, eyes dark. The blonde woman cut herself off when she saw division on her sister's face. She gasped once more, tear tracks having dried onto her haughty cheeks. "I see how it is," she growled. "I can't believe you slept with her. Her, of all your pupils."

Oh, had that not been a well known fact? Was that why Bellatrix acted so differently around Hermione when they were around the cause members? Hermione didn't know how that fact made her feel. Bellatrix stiffened behind Hermione.

"Shut up Narcissa or I will make you," she gave uncomfortable looks to see if the other Death Eaters were listening. They were, eyes prickling with curiosity. They had picked the wrong time for such a public fight. They'd been in the common room of their shared hide out and Narcissa had arrived from the fireplace, making a beeline for Bellatrix as everyone else watched her cry over Draco and plead with Bellatrix to save him from Azkaban where he'd been sentenced for his crime of killing Dumbledore. Hermione had attended the trial under guise. It had been the quickest trial ever and she'd watched in glee as a broken Draco simply shuffled off to prison with drooping shoulders and no soul left in his eyes.

That would teach him.

But Narcissa was on a roll. "You slept with a mudblood, full well knowing what our cause is about?!" she screamed and Bellatrix was shaking. Wavering, between not wanting to hurt her sister, but needing to protect herself. She was going to do something either rash or unforgivable. So Hermione did for her.

She slid out her wand and with a silent spell, froze both of them. They stopped talking, even breathing. Still as statues. Bellatrix shot a look at Hermione from under her dark hair. Her lip corner twitched upwards. Hermione wasn't sure what that meant.

"Let's take these liars," she said loudly and for show of the watching Death Eater's, "and show them what happens when they accuse you of such things. I know they are in grief, but they must know when to stay an insult." She levitated the bodies up and to a nearby room. Bellatrix followed after her. When they were both inside, Hermione set the statues down as Bellatrix locked the door and cast privacy spells on it so no one could hear.

"I suppose I owe you a thanks," Bellatrix said gruffly, turning to Hermione who looked at her with eager eyes. Would Bellatrix thank her with a kiss? She hoped so, not caring that Narcissa and Lucius were in the room. Let them see how they kissed. Let them see the love between them. Hermione stepped forward to close the distance between them but Bellatrix side stepped her and went to stroke the cheek of her sister in a slightly affectionate manner. "Dear Cissy," she sighed in exasperation. "Why must you trouble me so? Leave," she barked at the end to Hermione who swallowed down the dark news of this.

She hadn't been expected to be treated this way. Regardless, she left, respecting Bellatrix's need for privacy. She would catch up with her later. She would see to it.

* * *

Bellatrix comes into her bedroom and startles subtly when she notices who is sitting on her bed, legs crossed over the other, still in her Hogwarts uniform. "Hermione, what are you doing here?" she asks unkindly.

Hermione swallows in a throat gone dry. Few things make her nervous. Addressing Bellatrix about their love life is one of them. "I wasn't aware I was a secret to be hidden," she stated, rising her chin to look more confident. It didn't fool Bellatrix, Bellatrix who closed the door behind her and discretely cast a silencing spell over it. "Don't be fool," Bellatrix stated briskly, going to her drawer to look for a change of clothes. It was night time after all, and she was tired from her long excursions for her lord.

"So I shouldn't have anything to worry about?" Hermione hopped off the bed, prowling over to where Bellatrix was slightly hunched over her drawer. She wrapped her arms around her waist and placed her chin over her shoulder. "Something is amiss with us. And I know it's not me."

Bellatrix stiffened slightly as Hermione whispered this into her ear.

"I don't know what you mean."

She turned in Hermione's hold, forcing space between them. Hermione stepped back, clearing her throat a bit. "You know what I mean. You've basically tossed me aside, without an explanation of why."

"You've seen why," Bellatrix stressed in a low hiss of frustration. "We're fighting a pureblood cause. It's enough of a scandal that you're on our side but to have me, Voldemort's lieutenant, having an affair with you?" Bellatrix shook her head, curls wildly moving back and forth.

"No one knows about us?" Hermione questioned, hurt but trying to understand.

"No one did, until now. Lord Voldemort is going to hurt me for this." Bellatrix said this like it was a stated fact.

"Why only you?"

"Because I'm supposed to know better," Bellatrix said, curling her lip in disgust.

"I'll speak to him," Hermione said, not wanting any harm coming to her wonderful mentor. "I'll tell him it was all my fault."

"Don't bother. I've dealt with his punishments before. You haven't."

"He hurt you?!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly filled with rage. Who dared to hurt her lover?

Bellatrix back tracked seeing this was the wrong thing to say. "Just stay out of it. I don't need this situation getting any worse than it already is."

"He shouldn't treat you like this-"

"Leave," Bellatrix said, a low growl in her words. "This isn't your business and if you insist on inserting yourself into it or my lord's and I's conversation, I will end whatever we still have between us." This wasn't a light threat, or a joke. It was clear Bellatrix meant it with every bone of her body.

Hermione's eyes flared open at the treat. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would," Bellatrix said, face hard.

Swallowing thickly, Hermione ducked her head and left the room. She went back to her dorm room and laid on the bed, willing herself to not cry as she hugged her pillow. Why were things like this happening to her? What did she do to deserve it?

* * *

With Dumbledore dead, the ministry swarmed the school making it hard for the the Death Eaters to infiltrate it now. Voldemort's plans were delayed and they would yet again need to wait so they could get their hands on Harry Potter. Little did he know, what Hermione exactly was up to, or else he'd be very angry. So angry he might even kill her. But, with all the horcruxes secured it was only a matter of time for a grand show down.

First, Hermione worked on ridding Hogwarts of those pesky ministry members as they tried to put order back in place as McGonagall took over as headmistress. Hermione laid some charms on the workers, confusing them and making them think they were done here. And then, the school was free for invasion.

Hermione studied up on portal creation, something no wizard had successfully created but which she knew she could. She had more magic than anyone else, possibly ever would. So, she opened up a portal and let them come through, sitting leniently on top of a trunk she had brought just for this occasion as they stormed into the room of requirements.

The first one who saw her, immediately fired off a spell at her. "It's Potter! Get him!" She deflected his spell easily and the others that came flying at her in succinctness.

"It's me you idiots," she growled out because the polyjuice potion hadn't worn off yet.

Their acts eventually slow down, though they are wary of her still. She lazily sits on the trunk and scowls at them. Voldemort emerges last with the closest members of his circle around him. Bellatrix is by his side, looking predatory whenever time for battle strikes. She walks slightly hunched over, lips peeled back from her teeth, eyes darting everywhere as if to take in everything at once. He, on the other hand, struts like a proud peacock. Chest puffed up, steps languorous, like everything is his before he has even won it because he is entitled for it.

"Hermione, what is the meaning of this," he asks, looking her over with his sunken in eyes.

"I summoned you here, ripe for the battle." She tries to gauge his reaction to this and fails. If he's not happy, she'll be pissed the fuck off. But then, should she really care about him? No, she shouldn't. "And I've brought a little gift to your feet, my lord," she said, getting off of the trunk. Out of the corner of her eye she spots Bellatrix whose face is neutral now but her eyes are glimmering with questions on what the fuck Hermione is playing at. This wasn't in any of their plans. Hermione knows. Which is why she thinks it'll be even better this way. She opens the trunk and reaches in. Her hand goes down and down and pulls out Harry Potter, bound and gagged, looking thin from lack of proper nutrition and exercise. He's been in her trunk for months now.

And no one has been none the wiser.

"Harry Potter, in the flesh," Voldemort says like a soft sigh, in that bone whisper of his. Harry strains against his holds, screams behind the gag.

"Take him," Hermione steps on him, like one would on a rock as they overlook the lands that now belong to them.

"He's no fun all tied up," Voldemort insists. Ah, so he's going to drag this moment out. She supposes she's guilty of being theatrical too.

"Bellatrix," he orders sharply and her head snaps up to him like a dog awaiting an order from it's master. "I want you to lead the charge. Take over Hogwarts and I'll finally have my duel with Potter here," he smiles down at the boy whose sweating now, trying to squirm away even more. Hermione leans off of him, ready to join the charge against the school. She can't wait to be in the thick of it, watching people fall to her might.

"You're staying behind, Hermione. Guard this room. I will have need of you later."

Hermione's eyes flash with anger at being ordered to do this, while Bellatrix's flash with jealousy. Hermione would gladly change places.

She watches sullenly as Bellatrix's barks out commands, telling Death Eaters where they are supposed to go. Hermione lingers on the outside of the crowd, wishing she could go with them. As they soon begin to file out, masks on and wands at the ready, Bellatrix stalls a bit, to throw her a threat wrapped in a command. "You had better do what Voldemort wants. We don't need anymore plans thrown off kilter."

Hermione scowls but says nothing to Bellatrix's whisper. They leave and Hermione is vaguely aware of Voldemort untying Harry so the duel can begin before she leaves too, only to stand in front of the door.

She shouldn't be doing this. She'd not some guard. She is a warrior. She should be out on the field like the rest of them! She grits her teeth in annoyance and crosses her arms over chest and waits, tapping her foot as if this would speed things up.

Eventually, Voldemort emerges, a maniacal grin on him, as he is full of energy. He's won. Hermione knows he has even without him saying it. He has the post kill look on his face. Additionally, Potter was a boy, possessing nowhere near the prowess needed to defeat an evil lord. Even the wand Voldemort had provided him for the duel had been but minuscule in helping. "Take him out back and bury him. He may have been my nemesis but he deserves a burial at the least."

Hermione makes to protest but then decided against it. "Yes, my lord," she murmurs, bowing her head to him and watching him turn into black smoke as he disappears to join the battle raging through the rest of the school.

With the apparition wards down now, Hermione apparates over to the Forbidden forest with Harry's body. Held against her, lifeless, he seems so small. And pale. His eyes look up unseeing into the air and she feels but a bit of remorse..

Remorse for him losing and not for giving him up. What life could he have had, being hunted down to the dark lord anyways? She sets him down on the piney floor, using her wand to scoop out dirt and make a hasty grave.

As she's halfway through, a loud gasp startles her. She opens her eyes wide when she sees that it's come from Harry. He's scrambling on the dirt, breathing hard, eyes frantic. "Where- what- fuck!" he curses and his back comes into contact with the bark of the tree behind him.

His eyes finally settle on Hermione who stands stock still, intrigued by this. So it seems Voldemort can't even kill his own nemesis. Pathetic. "Hermione," Harry gasps out, the polyjuice potion having worn off. "What are you doing here? What's going on?" He sees the half dug grave at her feet.

"I was burying you," she says softly.

"Why?"

"You died, Harry. Voldemort killed you and he's in Hogwarts, killing everyone else."

"Shit," Harry curses, rises to his feet, looking wildly in his pockets for his wand, then looking at the forest floor for it too. "I have to get back there and stop him. You have to help me."

"How are you alive?" Hermione questions, not moving to help him.

"Er, um, I had a horcrux inside me. I had to die for him to be defeated. But he's still got so many other horcruxes. I was working with Dumbledore to capture them," Harry's rushing off without a wand back to the school. What good could he do there? Hermione follows him as he slips down the rocky ground, towards the sounds of battle.

"So, you have infinite lives?" Hermione asks him coolly, curiously.

"No, just that part of him inside me had to be killed off and he killed it. If we act quick, we can still find the other parts of his soul. I know they're inside the school. Dumbeldore can hold him off while you and I work. And Ron too. He needs to help stop Voldemort with us. Then, he'll be weakened and I can stop him and save the world and-" Harry's speaking really fast.

"Harry stop."

Harry stops. Turns to look at Hermione. "I need your help."

Hermione forgets he doesn't know what she's been up to these past months when she masqueraded as him all over the school. He doesn't know that she can't be trusted.

"Harry, Dumbledore is dead. And the horcruxes are all destroyed now."

"What?" he blusters, his face crumpling in. "No, he can't be dead- he can't!" He runs his head through his mopey hair. Hermione feels only slightly bad about this all. Because she's taking way too much pleasure out of it all.

"If you want you can join my side," she tells him. He might be fun to take around, as a servant of course, once she destroys Voldemort and his cause. Harry is stupidly loyal and what better way to start her empire than with the boy who lived twice? Break him, order him around, and the rest of the wizarding world will fall easily.

"Your side?" he breaks out of his anguish to stare at her. "Hermione what are you talking about. Why are you even outside with me?"

"Harry," she sighs, taps her wand on her thigh, losing patience with him. "There is a war going on. A war between good and evil. I've been working for Voldemort this whole time."

"What?" his face pales even further and he looks ready to knell over from all the shocks he's been given.

"But I don't quite care for him, or for his cause. I'm going to take him down. But I need you work with me."

He shook his head, backing up from her. "Hermione you're not making any sense."

"I don't have to. You just have to trust me. I have a lot of power Harry. I was the one who captured the Horcruxes while you were in the trunk. And once this little war is over, I'm destroying Voldemort." It felt good to say that out loud.

"How do you... how do you know about the trunk?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because I put you in it."

"Why?" he barks out, his fear propelling him into anger. His hands clench into fists. "Why would you do all this, Hermione? Why would you work for him? Why would you lock me up?"

"Because I have my own plans," she snaps, losing patience. "He wants to destroy the world. I want to save it. Will you work for me?"

Harry shook his head. "This is all too much," he said, holding his head.

"Fine then," Hermione said tightly and raised her wand at him.

* * *

By the time she joined battle, she was only able to get some stragglers.

It was disappointing really, only getting the ends of what should be her big glory. They fell down, with no effort at all and she felt robbed of her glory, of showing off her power. She rejoined the rest of the Death Eaters in the great hall. Those enemies who had not been destroyed where tied up, heads bent in defeat and on their knees, arms behind their backs. Bellatrix danced with glee over the tables, knocking things over and mocking the losers.

Hermione's heart swelled at her mentor's antics. She was just so amusing.

She stepped over some rubble to get closer to hear what the damage report was. Someone spotted her.

"Hermione!" Ron calls out when he notices Hermione standing in line with the rest of the Death Eater's. "Hermione!"

She tries to ignore him but he's hard to do so when he keeps screaming at her. The Death Eaters around her chuckle at this display and she know she must quell it. She rolls her yes and addresses him, with her complete lack of an accent. "What Ron?" How did he survive the battle with his abysmal skills?

"What are you doing on the other side?" he questions like a fool.

"What else do you think? Standing here and looking pretty?" she rolls her eyes in annoyance again.

He seems to finally understand this, face turning red as he does. "You're working with them? But...but you're a muggle? Why?"

Hermione shrugs. "Why not? Now, shut up."

Voldemort entered the grand hall dramatically, robes flaring around him. It was time for him to make his victory speech. She rolled her eyes, more subtly this time and snuck out when she thought no one would notice.

Hermione had lied to Harry earlier. She hadn't destroyed the other horcruxes, merely kept them safe. Now she would strike when Voldemort was in the middle of gloating. Of thinking he had won. She put them all in a bag and went back into the Forbidden Forest where she had left Harry.

He was tied up to a tree, shivering in the cold of the setting dusk.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks her, trying to get to her with reason and empathy. But he won't be able to. She knows what she must do and no one will make her reconsider her actions. She gets to work, setting up magic around the space she has chosen specifically for this. Her wand leaves burning trails in the grass and in the air, that slowly dim and die out.

"Why not?" she hums, the magic coming easy to her. She must be careful not to use too much of it. Or it could backfire on her too. Harry watches her pour over the ruins, having no idea what she's doing.

"It doesn't have to be like this."

"Oh relax, I'm not going to kill you," she huffs. "You would make a good man servant. Even if you don't want to become one, you will," she assures him and he swallows, shrinking back against his bonds. She takes her bag and dumps the horcruxes out.

It takes her several tries to finally get the items to a nice smoldering pile, but she knows she's succeeded when blood curdling screams erupt from the items and the ground shakes. They'd been destroyed. Now, she just had to wait.

Hermione was very sure that Voldemort had to have felt that; the destruction of every last part of his soul. There was no way he hadn't. It had been so many and all at once. Hermione looked at the smoldering remains of that sick man's rejected soul and waited for him.

It took considerably longer than she thought it would for him to try and summon her. Her mark burned on her arm but she refused the call, gritting her teeth and taking the pain like a champ. She has tempted to slice that skin off of her arm but not now. She had nothing to be afraid of. Nobody that could hurt her, truly.

She would no longer be bullied into doing what others wanted of her.

Eventually she saw them, swarms of black smoke heading to her through the woods. She had picked a strategic spot. Somewhere far enough from the wards of the school and yet not too far from the school. Voldemort materialized in front of her, along with Alecto, Amycus, Peter, and Bellatrix.

"I would have thought you'd piece this all together much faster than this," she said, scowling. "I'm disappointed."

The Dark Lord sneered at her. "I don't know what you're attempting to do, but this stops right here and now. I should have known never to include a filthy mudblood in my schemes."

She grit her teeth in anger at hearing that word choice but held firm. "I'll tell you why I did this: because I hate you. I think your cause is stupid and I could do a much better job of fixing this world than you could."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Shut up, and die!" They all raise their wands. Hermione can't look at Bellatrix; she's afraid to see what's on her face. Anger? Hatred? Or love? Hermione can't bare to waver in her conviction now; she knows if she looks she will lose her edge and this is all done for Bellatrix anyways. Not that Hermione will tell her.

Hermione holds her arms out, showing she is ready to accept this, this punishment of Voldemort and his followers. "Go ahead then." She juts her chin out. They all fire, and Hermione counts five spells heading towards her, meaning even Bellatrix has chosen to attack. The woods around them erupt into flames, consuming them all as Hermione's previously laid out trap engulfs them all in her magic.


	10. Absolutely

* * *

_Built on every scar that you gave me_   
_Tore my body into what made me_   
_The hell you put me through is what raised me_   
_Now I_   
_I'm indestructible_

_This is my domain, domain_   
_You're in my kingdom now_   
_This is my domain, domain_   
_No one can it tear down_   
_This is my domain, domain_   
_You're stepping on my ground_   
_It's live or die my way_   
_Inside the walls of my domain_

_-My Domain, Tommee Profitt-_

* * *

_Four months prior_

"It's time for your test, my star," Bellatrix said, twirling a lock of Hermione's hair between her slender fingers as they laid in bed under the covers, naked as the day they were born.

Hermione's face lit up at this; she had been awaiting the day she could truly show her mettle with eagerness that could only rival those of children at Christmas time. "Really?"

"Truly," Bellatrix affirmed, with a cocky half grin. "Because you have proved amazing at your studies and thus it is time for you to finally become the witch you are meant to be."

Hermione smiled at this, eager to know more, eager to please. "When will my test occur?"

"You have a week. To decide what it is you want to do for your test and then for actually completing it. The grander the act, the better."

Hermione allowed herself to sink deeper into the covers, dreaming about what she would do. There was no question she wanted to revenge herself upon the school that had been home to so much of her pain. She wanted to make the students there hurt. Make the administration pay.

"I already know what I want to do, and it shall be done eagerly."

"That's what I like to hear," Bellatrix affirmed, kissing Hermione on her forehead and tugging her in closer so they could get some much needed sleep.

* * *

Hermione spent the first day of her testing period, planning. She already knew what she wanted to do, but with her limitless magic, there were so many delicious options to choose from. So, she had to calm herself down and focus or else things would get real complicated.

She spent all day in her room, locked up with her books and her notes. She only came down for dinner because she knew her parents would question her if she didn't and she did not need them meddling in her business more. They were already suspicious of her as it was, and she didn't need them mucking up her big plans nor her destiny.

Dinner was a tense affair, her parents trying to make small talk but she barely paid any mind to it, or to their glancing at her in concern, because she was thinking deeply on what course of action to take in the school. She was going to show all those assholes that they had been wrong in looking down on her. Especially the principal who had allowed Pansy, Daphne, and Blaise to bully her like they had. He would pay dearly for his passive compliance.

Hermione thanked her parents for dinner once she finished quickly and then went up the stairs, pouring over notes once more. She wasn't stupid enough to write them in English, instead using the codes she had created so that if anyone saw them by accident, they would have no idea what was written on it. She had been devising this code for a while, and it was mainly a mix of Latin and English that only she had the key to understanding.

With a full belly she went deep into the night, staying up to the break of dawn to finalize her plans. Plans that would satisfy her need for revenge and also impress Bellatrix.

* * *

In order to have the students remain silent about the ordeal that was happening in the school, she devised a potion. A potion of compliance. Normally such a thing was done by having a person agree to the terms of a convent with their signature. The pact would then prevent them from speaking on a matter without dire consequences. Since, Hermione had no feasible way of enacting this with so many people and in a short amount of time, she settled for a potion instead. The potion was notoriously hard to brew, but with Hermione's dream access to Bellatrix's closet of herbs, she had all the ingredients there. All Hermione needed to add of her own was a snippet of her hair, which would bind the students to her orders and whims.

This potion was hard to come by, but Bellatrix's ancient and wide variety of tomes in her mansion proved to be a gateway to Hermione discovering this potion. It had been banned and for good reason. Because it was malicious and though the afflicted were aware of what they were doing, they could not break free of the hold. There were ways of getting around the potion if the potion creator did not account for loop holes. But Hermione had accounted for all of them. She had written it all down on a sheet of parchment paper and rolled it up. Every instruction and loop hole was accounted for in this. She had double and even triple checked. There was no way she would have the students rising up against her.

As for the teachers...well, that she would handle in a different way all together.

Grinning darkly, she dropped the parchment of instructions into the ebullient cauldron and stepped back as sparks flew.

So, on Hermione's second day of being tested, she spent brewing the potion and brought it back with her to the real world once she exited the dream one. With it safely secured, she only had to go about spreading it to everyone.

Grinning happily now, she prepared for Monday and the various fun she would have at school on that day. So wrapped up in her inner devices she did not notice her parents fevered whisperings among themselves as they glanced at her with something akin to budding horror each time she was in their presence.

* * *

She arrived early in the morning, the school doors open but the hallways empty save for a few early birds and the staff. Hermione kept out of sight of the school staff as she waved the door open to the basement and went downstairs. There was a lot of the potion inside her bag, safely cradled to her hip. She couldn't afford it to get hurt. Because then she would have to waste a whole other day to make it. And while she had created her plans with enough leeway in case something did go wrong, she'd rather not waste it on potion brewing. It had always been her least favorite subject.

Going down the rickety stairs to the dusty basement, she snapped her fingers to get the lights to flicker on. They did so, showing concrete covered in mysterious stains and a few cockroaches scurrying around. She pulled a face at them. She had seen much and done much worse than a cockroach but there was just something about the way they skittered that brought distaste to her, made her skin crawl.

She set her bag carefully on the ground in front of the emergency sprinkler system. She tapped a finger to her chin, in no rush to figure the system out. There were several red knobs that allowed her to turn on or turn off the system. But none that were a hatch to the water that came from these pipes. She looked around, brushing away a few cobwebs so that she could examine things more carefully. Eventually her examination paid off and she opened up the hatch to the system that directly fed into the sprinkler system. She took out her potion delicately. It was held in a bottle of glass about the same size of a water bottle. It wasn't much but she had devised it so that it's potency was ten times stronger than what the small dose of it belied. It was potent enough that the drops of it hitting a students or staff members skin should be enough to get it to work

She tipped the potion in carefully, the smell of bubblegum permeating the air as the brown substance went in. Then, all done, she closed the hatch, put the glass bottle away, and went back upstairs. She would wait until all of the students were here, and then, once the school day was deep along, she would turn the sprinklers on.

She knew that there would be some students who wouldn't be in today. It couldn't be helped. But she already had a plan. She would steal the attendance sheets and figure out which students those had been and then force them to sign a pact the good old fashioned way, with paper and pen and their blood.

Throughout the morning period, she attended to her work, paid attention in class, and waited for fourth period to come with a patience that was chilling. If the teachers noticed her calmer behavior, they didn't comment on it. They had long ago given up on her, on trying to lecture her from this 'dark phase' she was going through. Little did they know it wasn't a phase. It never had been. Her being weak and soft, being bullied, had been the phase. And now with Bellatrix's help she had blossomed into who she should be. Into who she truly was.

When fourth period finally arrived, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and left the room, passing by a couple of posters the school had hung up in memory for Daphne, Blaise, and Pansy. The school community had been rocked by the string of savage murders and there had been many boring meetings about it school wide.

She sneered at the posters. It still bugged her that there wasn't one for Ginny up. She too had been killed. Why didn't they care enough to hang up a poster for her?

Without a second thought, Hermione reached out to rip the posters down like she had wanted to for the longest time. They fell with satisfying rips echoing through the hall, and landed flat on the floor. Pansy's stupid face looked up at her and Hermione stepped on it in good measure as she continued to walk to the basement to enact her plan.

She went down the stairs, the air dank, found the sprinkler system, and then activated it with a turn of the wrist on the red knob. Smiling to herself, all she had to do was wait for the chaos to end.

It only took two minutes before she heard the screams start as students and staff alike were drenched in the mixture of water and potion. No doubt the school would be evacuated soon, and someone would be running down to stop the system.

She wasn't worried. She never was anymore these days. What did she have to worry about when she could just fix it all?

She counted down the minutes, figuring after ten minutes that enough damage had been done. She turned the system off herself and then made it up the stairs, finding the floors wet and halls empty. She went outside to the front yard where she knew the students would be all mass gathered as per the fire drill steps. She emerged out of the school, the double doors flinging wide open.

A breezed stirred around her as she looked down at the teeming mass of students and staff below her. A sense of elation filled her. Being powerful like this, it was indescribable. Now, it was time to see that power pay off.

Much like a queen come to sneer down at misbehaving peasants, she stood on top, clothes dry and brown curls tumbling around her shoulders, as she placed her hands on her hips. A grand speech would fit this moment well, but she didn't have time to gloat. Not yet.

Only when her work was done and her test passed then she would.

"Listen up, assholes," she said, loudly and clearly, her voice magnified with a spell to make it louder. The chattering and complaining of soaked students stopped as they looked at her. "The time has come that I am done with your shit. I don't know if you know me, you probably don't care to know me well enough. Most of you just know me as the girl who was horribly bullied because you would see me getting hurt plain as day in the halls and not do anything about it. Well, I'm done with that part of my life. True, my bullies are long and dead, but only because I had to finally kill them myself."

She paused to let the students and staff react to this. Their confused staring and muttering turned to gasps of horror or incredulity. She continued on, her voice rising above theirs, clear and confident. "But, all the pain that was caused to me, needs an outlet. And what better outlet than on those assholes that allowed me to be abused. You, I'm talking about you all in case it wasn't clear," she said with a sneer. "You will do everything I tell you too."

The principal shouldered his way through the crowd. "Hermione Granger. What is the meaning of this?" he blustered out, face red.

"Shut up. I'll deal with you later," she told him, and pulled out her wand. As he began to indignantly sputter at what she said she pointed the wand at him and uttered out, "Stupefy!" he collapsed to the floor and the students audibly gasped at this. She saw a few of them fumble for their phones only for the phones to drop from their hands. She smirked at this. She knew teens propensity for social media. In order to stop her plans from being shared, she had made it so that every time they reached for their phone they would be unable to use them, thus being unable to record her.

Word would not be getting out, either through phone or their ability to chat about it outside school or among each other. All they could do was obey.

"Students!" she roared out. "You will go into the school, back to the lunchroom and you will wait their patiently and quietly for me."

She watched as collectively their spines straightened up and they snapped to it, marching quietly indoors, pouring around her but not touching her. The teachers stayed outside, confused by what was happening. One of them had crouched by the principal, trying to shake him awake.

"Teachers, you are to go to the lunchroom too," she said and watched amused as they were also forced to follow her orders. Sometimes, Hermione truly felt like there was nothing she couldn't do. Was magic meant to feel this way? To be so easy to call upon?

Or was she just special?

She'd find out soon enough.

Once they were all inside, she was only left with the principal's unconscious form on the courtyard. Time to deal with him. She used a spell to levitate his form into his office where she set about strapping him up to the chair.

His head lolled around as he began to come to, eyes fluttering open with a groan. He was dazed and muttering. "Granger, what is- what are you doing? Let me go right now!" he strained against his ropes.

"No, I don't think that's going to happen," she said coolly.

"What do you think will, other than me reporting you to the cops-" She placed her wand across his mouth, the suddenness of it shutting him up.

"You won't get a chance to do that." She sat back on his desk, legs crossed over the other. "I intend to treat you the same way I treated my bullies."

"Hermione-"

"No." Stern, loud. Her eyes are steel. "You let them bully me. You didn't do a damned thing to stop them!" She scoffed, shook her head as despair began to fill his eyes. "And now, I am going to make you pay for what you did. And I'll enjoy it, because you certainly won't."

And she lifted her wand up and brought it down with poetic justice.

* * *

She didn't bother to clean up the blood on her when she came into the lunchroom an hour later to find her mass of mindless servants waiting for her. She rather felt the crimson was like a badge of honor, applauding her for coming ever closer to her goals. For finally getting revenge on those that deserved it.

She could read the horror in the glassy eyes of her newly minted minions, but they could do nothing about it. They were hers to order around. She slid her wand into her skirt's pocket, wiping a bit at the blood on her mouth. She didn't want to taste it.

"There's going to be some new rules around here," she drawled even as her veins churned with anticipation and adrenaline post kill. "I'm the new principal and I expect you all to follow my orders. I've placed you under my control. Don't ask how, it doesn't matter anyways. It's too late for all of you. The important part is if you even so much as try to snitch on me or tell what's going on in this school you will have a massive heart attack. If you don't take my word for it- that's fine, don't. I won't see you in school tomorrow. And on the topic of that, perfect attendance is a must. Not that you have much of a choice. The magic will compel you to come here."

She looked over pale and ashen faces, soaking in their fear like she grew more powerful from it. Like it was a meal to be savored. She could get used to this. "Any questions?" she asked, even though she knew they couldn't.

"Good," she smiled with all her teeth. "Get back to class." And with a turn of her heel she was marching away.

* * *

The next day, several students didn't come back to school and when she checked the news she found many reports on unusual heart attacks. So, that answered that. Similarly someone had put out a missing person's report on the principal. Something small to be remedied later. Right now, she had to go magic the students who hadn't been affected by her potion because they hadn't been in school yet. And then, some major redecorating, she thought as she looked over the bland school.

It could use a lot more red's and blacks.

Humming to herself, she tapped her fingers on her desk in her office, flipping through her papers. Planning more dastardly plans of how to make the students feel like she had when she'd been bullied. Scared and uncertain of the future. She closed her eyes and allowed her brain to scheme.

This was almost too easy.

* * *

Day five of her testing period went a bit haywire. And it wasn't anything to do with the school. It was her parents. She had all but forgotten about them in her quest for power and magic. But they were there, and due to her lack of diligence in thinking of them as a threat, they had uncovered a deep dark secret of her's.

Gibbsy was nice enough to come and warn her while she was in the middle of installing some red wallpaper in the school hallways.

"Miss Granger must come home and see! Gibbsy tried his best, he did. But they got to Miss Granger's stuff! To her secret stash."

Her brows went up. She was irritated, her good mood at seeing students cowering at her, dashed. "Fine," she sighed out and allowed Gibbsy to bring her back home. They arrived in a crack of noise, finding Hermione's parents elbow deep in her stuff.

They both shrieked and jumped when they saw her sudden arrival.

"Why the hell are the two of you in my stuff?" she snarled out, eyes growing dark as she felt her magic inside her growl awake. It was ready to pounce. To punish. She held it coiled inside her chest for now. _Hurt them_ , it buzzed. _They should have kept their nose out of things, but now they know and they must be dealt with._

Oh, she would. She'd punish them for this. For finally noticing her but only once she'd grown into her true being. Never being there for her when she was hurting and weak. All her hidden resentment and her magic boiled together to a fever pitch. Her anger shot up unbelievably fast. So fast, if she had thought about it, it should scare her. To see how unrecognizable she was becoming from the nice girl she had once been.

But she didn't care about any of that.

All she cared about was righting the wrongs given to her.

Her parents turned to face her, at first stumbling over what needed to be said. Over the information they had to comprehend.

"Oh my god, Hermione," her father gasped, growing pale. Her mother looked even paler and she wobbled. In their hands they held the box of trinkets she had under her bed. Personal affects close to the victims. Close to Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne.

"Are you...are you the person whose been killing the residents? Who killed Pansy...and Blaise and Daphne?" he finished, each word making it sound like he would be sick on it.

She didn't have time for this. "I wish you hadn't looked. You would have been fine never knowing. I could have spared you." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at them. "But not now. You are going to compromise everything." She couldn't allow them to get in the way of her finishing her witch training. To finish taking over and fixing the school.

"What is that? Why are you pointing a stick at us?" her mother squeaked out in a dry whisper.

"It's not a stick! How dare you disvalue my culture like this! It's a wand. And I am a witch!"

"A witch?" her mother furrowed her brows. "Darling," she tried to reason. "Those don't exist. Whatever it is you think you are, you aren't."

"You've let Satan get a grip on you," her father said. He had never really religious but this moment was making him so. Funny, how when it came to times of need, people finally believed in a higher power that could either save or destroy them.

"You don't know anything. I have been saved. Given a greater purpose. My eyes have been opened to this world. And I am going to make it a better place by killing those who don't deserve to live in it."

A police siren's wail cut through her dialogue. Her heart froze, clenching in anger and betrayal.

"You called the cops on me?" she hissed out, eyes dark. Her parents looked terrified but apologetic. "We had to," her father said. "We can't let you do something like this."

A feral growl left her lips as she swiveled on her heel. Now there were more people she would have to take care of. She stormed out the door and found two cop cars parked outside, a total of five cops waiting for her.

"Hermione Granger, hold it right there," said the Sheriff, reaching for his badge and his gun. She kept walking down the stairs, raising her wand. "Leave me alone! Last warning."

"Suspect seems to be unarmed but she is holding a wand. Seems enraged," he spoke into his walkie talkie. Behind him two cops had guns drawn, the fourth halfway in the car and the fifth standing outside, hands on hips. The sheriff approached but he didn't have his gun out, just his hand on it.

"We only want to take you down to the station. No one is going to hurt you," he spoke in a calming voice.

"Bullshit," she spat. "If you didn't want to hurt me, you wouldn't have this many cops. You already suspect me of being the killer despite how improbable it seems a girl of my stature can kill the victims in the way they were killed. But you're about to find out."

She lifted up her wand.

"What is she doing?" asked the cop with a gun.

"Bombarda!" she shouted out and directed the spell towards the car with the fourth cop in. It exploded, lifting up into the air in a burst of flame. The rest of the cops ducked, cursing.

"What the fuck was that?" asked the sheriff as the second car also exploded under the aim of Hermione's wand and spell. Soon the sky was red with fire and acrid smoke.

It felt good to use magic like this. It felt right. And she should use more, something inside her told her. The more she used, the more skill she would have with it. And she only ever wanted to be perfect for her mentor. To prove the coven of witches proud.

"Shoot her!" came the command but she raised a protego in time to block the bullets. They bounced off and whizzed past the cops, one getting a scrapped cheek.

"She's got bombs and a shield!" they cried out, scrambling to get away.

"She's just a girl. Take her down!" the sheriff cried out, before he reached for the walkie taklie on his chest.

She couldn't have him calling for back up. She dropped her shield as the bullets had stopped flying. They were ducking for cover. "Confrigo!" the sheriff was doused in flames. He let out horrid screams as he rushed around, trying to put himself out. He screamed like a headless chicken.

It was amusing and she couldn't help the laugh that came out of her mouth. Oh, if only Bellatrix could see this.

A gun shot sounded off too close to her head. That made her angry. Why were they still trying to hurt her? They should be running away! She had given them a chance to get away with their lives but it seemed they foolishly hadn't taken it.

It was time to end this. And quickly. "Sectumsepra!" Arms and legs went flying, followed by showers of blood and pink inside organs that landed on the bushes and the ground. She aimed the spell at the second, the fool thinking hiding behind a tree would help him. The tree groaned, falling over and crushing him under it as he stupidly cowered.

It was over. Two fires from the cars still crackled, one flaming and unmoving body to the right and blood and broken trees a little further back in their front yard. It was a mess, but at least she could clean it up without attracting too much attention.

"What the fuck!" a loud shout made her turn to see her parents were there, masks of horror on their faces. Hermione took a step onto the stairs and they fled back in, shutting the door on her. A content smile played at her lips.

Those idiots shouldn't have messed with her and then none of this would have happened.

She turned to look at the sizable house her parents had rushed into. She had spent her whole life here, living a life of being unenlightened to her true potential. But now she knew. She had no more need of it. No more need to be reminded of what it stood for. And that was a time when she had been weak.

"Shall Gibbsy hunt down your parents?" the house elf asked, showing up out of nowhere.

"No." Was her short answer. "They won't make it far. Fiendfyre!" and green fire erupted from her wand in the shape of a snake, engulfing the whole place in it's maw. She turned her back on it, letting it do the work for her. It wouldn't go out no matter what, such was it malevolence.

"Gibbsy has taken and packed all of Miss Hermione's things."

"Excellent." She's inexorably pleased with how things are turning out.

"Where shall we go next?"

"There's quite a nice house on the edge of town. Some rich folks live in it, but frankly they don't deserve it. They've been swindling others out of money."

"Gibbsy will take out the trash and make sure it's presentable for Miss Hermione by the time she comes there."

"Thank you, Gibbsy."

With a pop the elf was gone and Hermione pocketed her wand, deciding she deserved a nice relaxing walk after all the hard work she had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: "Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Nothing more horrifying than someone with all the power in the world (Hermione) and using it for twisted purposes.


End file.
